Trapped
by FriendsLovers
Summary: Sometimes, accepting love and support is the first step into the right direction.
1. Chapter 1

**Title****:** Trapped  
**Summary****:** Sometimes, accepting love and support is the first step into the right direction.  
**Characters****:** Parker, Eliot, Nate, Sophie, Hardison  
**Pairings****:** Eliot/Parker, with Nate/Sophie  
**Rating****:** R  
**Disclaimer****:** I DON'T own anyone or anything. I DON'T own the characters. The fanfic is written for fun, NOT for profit.  
**Author****'****s****note****:** Thanks so much to the lovely akblake for discussing, reading, and for being a supportive friend!

* * *

_"Parker, wait, I'm gonna find you a different exit."_

_"What for? This one's just fine. My favourite exit anyway."_

_"No, no, no, Parker! Listen, you won't rappel down this building! Not like that. Let us..."_

_"I'm doing just fine." An amused snort. "I can handle it. Settle down, okay?"_

_"Parker, don't..."_

_She hadn't listened though, had made her way to the rooftop of the tall office building. In a hurry, she had gotten into her harness, the storm roughly playing with her loose hair._

_She had jumped, the lines had caught her. Like they always did._

_But then, the wind had caught her, had grabbed her like a huge, strong hand. She had tried to steady herself, clinging to the lines._

_But the storm had been stronger. Another push, once more causing her to spin around herself. The building's facade got closer and closer, far too quickly._

_She crashed into it with her back, head colliding with the hard surface. Pain ripped through her body, but the strong wind prevented a scream from leaving her mouth._

_And then, everything went black._

* * *

When Parker woke up, she felt as if someone was slowly, steadily dragging her out of a deep slumber. She couldn't remember if she had dreamt anything while being asleep: there had been strange combinations of pictures in her mind, but none of them had made sense.

Inch by inch, thought by thought, she was pulled out of her unconsciousness. She was grateful as the thick, white fog, that seemed to be surrounding her, slowly started to lift.

Her gratitude was quickly replaced by dismay though at the sensations that greeted her then. She couldn't breathe properly: most likely, that was due to the tube someone had shoved down her throat. Her head was pounding, in an odd way that caused her mind to spin.

Spinning around in circles. Just like she had, while dangling off an office building. Until...

Parker tried to groan, but the tube prevented her from doing so. Odd images were finding their way into her mind again. Were those real memories?

Blinking a few times, she tried to adjust her eyes to the bright light that greeted her, but she couldn't make out any details. Her surroundings looked horribly blurry, no matter how hard she tried to focus.

But even worse was the constant beeping sound, hurting in her ears. Why didn't anyone switch it off? She needed a while until her confused mind finally started to understand. A tube in her throat, a steady beeping sound. This was a hospital room. Someone had taken her to this place, most likely because she had been hurt.

And finally, some of those confusing images started to make sense. There had been the voices of her friends in her ear. There had been lines, catching her, while rappelling down a tall office building. The wind had been strong. She had been spinning, tossed around. Until...

She tensed. Until she had felt this horrible pain, shooting through her body like burning flame. She had lost consciousness, and just had woken up again.

But where was the pain? Parker frowned in confusion, or at least tried to do so. Her head was hurting, yes. But what had happened to the rest of her body?

Giving up on getting a clear view at her surroundings, she focused on herself instead, just to realise in shock that there was nothing. Nothing she could feel. That was impossible though: even her dizzy mind knew that she couldn't exist with only her head.

But what had happened to the rest? The beeping sound sped up, matching her rapidly increasing heart rate. She tried to move her legs, but nothing happened. She couldn't even feel whether or not a blanket was covering them. Panic started to fill her as she tried to move her hands, but couldn't feel those either. Where had her fingers gone? Were they resting on top of her belly, or by her sides on the sheets below?

What had happened to her?

Once more, Parker tried to scream, in almost overwhelming panic this time. Her eyes widened, but still she couldn't see. She could hear a voice, talking to her, but couldn't make out what it was saying. She could feel a slight pressure on her shoulder, but it was such a dull sensation that she almost believed she was just imagining it.

The beeping sound was bothering her now, only increasing her panic as it sped up more and more. Her view turned even more blurry as tears started to fog her eyes. Why couldn't she feel anything? Why couldn't she move? Was it possible that...

She struggled for another couple of moments. Then, she heard another voice, talking to her: a female one, a lot calmer than the one she had heard before. Another moment later, and everything went dark again, much to her relief.

* * *

When Parker woke up the next time, she wasn't greeted by a disturbing light, but darkness wasn't surrounding her either. This time, blinking helped, and after a while, she realised that she was no longer stuck in a hospital bed. It seemed like she was located in a normal bedroom now. The window was partly covered, only allowing bits of sunlight to find its way in.

The headache was gone. That was a welcome fact. But then, the horror of those minutes, before she had lost consciousness again, returned. She shifted, tried to move, just to realise that she couldn't. She could feel that she was lying in a soft bed, could feel the blanket that was covering most of her body.

But Parker knew: this dull feeling wasn't normal. She couldn't move her legs, couldn't move her arms either. Even her fingers wouldn't cooperate. They lay on top of the covers, stiff and still. She knew they were hers, but it seemed like her body didn't want to give her the permission to use them.

Another rush of panic filled her. She felt the urge to get up, to flee, like she always did when panic started to rise deep within her. But there was nowhere to go. Because she couldn't move.

Because she was trapped. Within herself.

"Parker? Parker, can you hear me?"

It was a warm, quiet voice, talking to her, trying to catch her attention. It wasn't the one that had been talking to her at the hospital, and only now, she was able to figure out who that person had been. Now it was Nate though, repeating her name a few more times until she managed to turn her head around and gaze up at him.

And there he sat: Nate, bent forward, studying her closely. He didn't look worried, but not comfortable either.

"N-Nate..." she forced herself to say. "What...w-where..."

"Everything's okay, Parker," he said, still in this soft, warm voice. It made her nervous, she had to admit. He reached out and she knew he had taken her hand into his, but she couldn't feel more than a strange, dull sensation. She tried to close her fingers around his, but failed. She could see that they stayed stiff, as if they didn't belong to her. Nate hadn't missed her attempt.

"I'm sure you're scared right now, because you're not feeling the way you're supposed to," he continued. "Do you remember what happened? After you jumped off the rooftop of the office building? Do you remember our last job?"

Parker frowned, trying to replay her latest memories. She could remember an office building. And a storm. And a horrible, shattering pain. She managed to offer the hint of a nod.

"Good." Nate looked almost satisfied for a moment. Then the calm expression returned. "You were hurt while rappelling. The wind tossed you against the facade of the building. It's a wonder only a few ribs were broken in the process, but..." He hesitated. "The impact hurt your spine and head, and at first, it seemed like you were paralysed from below your neck. Fortunately, the bruises faded away after a while and the doctors figured out that there wasn't any further damage."

"But..." she started, his words confusing her more than they comforted her. "But...I still..."

"I know." This time, Nate couldn't hide the concern in his voice, in his eyes. Awkwardly, he looked away, and only then, Parker realised he wasn't the only one in the room. Eliot was leaning against the opposite wall, watching the scene closely. As he caught Nate's look, silently asking for support, he made his way over to her. She watched every movement, trying to get some kind of answer out of what she was seeing, until he sat down at the edge of her bed.

"The doctors realised that although you seemed to be going through a normal healing process, the paralysis didn't go away like it was supposed to," he told her. A sigh escaped him as he added, "Parker, darlin', we don't wanna scare you with that, alright? Nate and I just agreed that hiding this in front of you when you wake up would be wrong. It's your right to know what's going on. But...there's no need to panic yet, okay? The doctors said there's no physical reason for the paralysis, but that doesn't mean we...won't somehow find a way to make it go away." He paused, staring at some random spot in front of him for a moment before he continued, "Besides, it is better than it's been in the beginning, so you're making progresses. We just...we don't know how long it's gonna take you to...well, get back to normal."

She didn't reply. Even if she had wanted to, Parker wasn't able to form a proper thought that would be worth being voiced. Her earlier panic had been replaced by the cold sensation of shock.

Paralysed. The plain idea of that almost was more than she could handle. She, Parker, the world's best thief, couldn't even move her hands. She, the woman who loved to rappel, to jump off the highest buildings, to cross laser fields and to crawl through air vents, was trapped in her very own body. That body, which she had trained so perfectly well, was turning against her now.

And no one knew why.

"Where...am I?" she eventually forced herself to ask, unwilling to address the topic any further, unwilling to ask anymore questions, afraid of the answers.

"This is the apartment right across of mine," Nate explained. "You're going to stay here until you're better. Together with Eliot. He's going to take care of you."

All she could offer was a tiny nod. Her mind was spinning again. She was freezing. Her heart was hammering in her chest, and the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach was rapidly increasing.

Paralysed. Trapped in her own body. And no one knew why, or for how long she would have to stay that way.

"I'm...tired," she whispered, no longer willing to look at those two men, who were trying so hard to appear calm and comforting. "Can...can you make me go back to sleep?"

Neither of them answered. A second later, a pill was offered to her. She couldn't shove it into her mouth on her own, couldn't hold the glass of water and take a sip on her own. But fortunately, she didn't have to think any further about this fact, as the pill kicked in fast and she drifted off into another dreamless slumber.

Leaning against the kitchen counter of his new apartment, Eliot watched Nate as he paced up and down the length of the living room. This time, he hadn't bothered to talk the man out of having a drink. In fact, he was almost in need of one himself. The past weeks and months had been a challenge for the entire team. Their last job should have been routine. There would have been several exists for Parker, but the thief had chosen her favourite one.

Unfortunately, the wind had gotten into the way of her plan. He could still remember how they had helplessly watched her struggle, until she had been tossed against the building's facade. The mental image still made him shudder: how she had been dangling off the building after the crash, how they hadn't been able to get in contact with her. How he had to rappel for the first time, to rescue her before she could get harmed even more.

Shaking his head, he sighed. They had been relieved at first, finding out that nothing but a few ribs had been broken. The bruises had healed, had revealed that no further damage had been caused. No one had expected that she would stay partly paralysed though. The doctors hadn't been able to offer an explanation, or any ideas for what to do next, for what could help their little thief.

Eventually, it had been Nate, who had decided that they would take her home. She had gotten better, her body wasn't as stiff and unable to feel as it had been in the beginning. But she was far from recovering yet, and as no one knew how to help her, except running test after test, with always the same results, Nate hadn't seen a sense in keeping her at the hospital any longer.

And now, Parker knew, too. He had seen the fear in her eyes, the shock, caused by his words. They had debated for so long whether or not they should tell her the truth about her constitution right away. Eventually, lying had seemed to be the wrong way though. She deserved to know.

Of course, she had reacted just the way they had expected. Parker, the world's best thief, could barely feel most of her body, and currently wasn't even able to move her hands, let alone her legs. He knew that practise would eventually allow her to be more or less mobile, but even then, it wasn't clear if she would ever be able to move normally again.

Would she be able to grab things with her old strength, or would her grip stay weak? Would her legs eventually be able to carry her one day, or would she be trapped in a wheelchair? And what was causing the paralysis in the first place?

"It was the right choice," Nate said then, interrupting him in his thoughts. "To tell her. She noticed that something was wrong right away. Lies would have only made it worse."

Eliot nodded in response. He knew Nate was trying to convince himself. It had been him, who had made the final decision, and, just like everyone else, feared what those news would do to Parker. How could a woman like her, a thief like her, deal with being immobile? For a person, who was used to being in control over their body like her, or like him, it was a horrible scenario.

"The question is...why's it not getting better?" he replied then. "Doctors said she should have gotten better during those months she spent at the hospital. Especially as she's been unconscious for so long. Her body had a lot of time to heal."

Nate sighed. "We both know that if it's not caused by a physical reason, it's due to something psychological. Mental blockades can hinder a person's recovery."

"Yeah, awesome, and how are we supposed to know what kind of blockade that is?" Eliot asked back. "What are we gonna tell her when she wakes up again, huh? That her own mind is trapping her inside her body? That some inner conflict, or whatever else you wanna call it, will make sure she doesn't really get better until it's solved, although she certainly doesn't even know what it is?"

Nate stared back at him, in this all too familiar calm, controlled way. "You know I'm just as helpless as you, or anyone else, don't you?"

"Yeah, sure." He sighed again. "You know, it's gonna be hard. Every average person would've a major problem with being confronted with such a situation. But Parker..." He shook his head, fighting down a sickening rush of despair. It was one of those problems he couldn't solve, and feeling helpless like that was unbearable. More than once, he had felt the almost overwhelming urge to trash the apartment, or to go and punch whoever would give him an odd look.

"I don't know what to do, Nate," he added.

"I know," Nate stated. "But we're all in this together, remember? You, me, the others. We're going to help Parker. We'll figure something out. We always do."

Eliot nodded slowly in response. He wanted to tell his friend that this situation was different, that no job could be compared to this challenge, but there was no purpose in doing so. Of course they would support Parker. They would do whatever they could. Because that was what a family did for each other.


	2. Chapter 2

**Title****:** Trapped  
**Summary****:** Sometimes, accepting love and support is the first step into the right direction.  
**Characters****:** Parker, Eliot, Nate, Sophie, Hardison  
**Pairings****:** Eliot/Parker, with Nate/Sophie  
**Rating****:** R  
**Disclaimer****:** I DON'T own anyone or anything. I DON'T own the characters. The fanfic is written for fun, NOT for profit.  
**Author's note:** Thank you so much for reviewing! :) Here's a new chapter. Huge thanks again to akblake for discussing and for her brilliant ideas!

* * *

When Parker woke up again, she felt worse than during the previous two times. The effect of the sleeping pill slowly faded away, much to her growing dismay. She felt sleepy at first, almost relaxed. The sensation reminded her of those short moments she always experienced shortly before waking up completely: for a couple of moments, the world seemed to be sweet and fine, problems didn't seem to exist.

But then, reality would kick in, and it did so with a force that made her want to lose consciousness again immediately. The dull feeling, having taken over almost every inch of her body, greeted her, and she doubted she would ever get used to this sickening sensation. She could breathe, she could talk, she could even feel, in some ways.

But her body didn't want to cooperate with her. At all. She didn't even bother to try and move her legs. Instead, she focused on her hands, resting on top of her stomach. Those hands were hers. She knew them. She had trained them after all. They were strong: stronger than most men's hands, although those were usually much bigger.

Size didn't always guarantee strength though, and she had learnt to use the fact that people tended to underestimate her at times, to her advantage. Those hands couldn't just stay stiff and still like that. She had to get back in control over them. She could do it. She knew she could.

Concentrating, she tried to move the thumb of her right hand, deciding that starting with one finger at the time might work best. Narrowing her eyes, she stared at the finger in question, mentally urging it to do what she wanted it to do. But nothing happened.

Parker didn't want to give up that easily though. She made another attempt. And another. She continued until she could feel her mind starting to spin, and exhaustion to take over again. By this time, tears were fogging her view: desperate, frustrated tears, coming along with a thick lump in her throat, which made breathing almost impossible.

She had lost control. No one knew what was wrong with her: being partly paralysed, in this odd way that made absolutely no sense to her or anyone else, wasn't caused by a physical reason.

In Parker's eyes, that made her situation even worse. Because the unknown only increased her fear. What would happen next? Was there a chance of a full recovery, or wasn't that an option at all? What had caused this partly paralysis, and what could be done against it? She could have all options to get better, or none at all.

Once again, she could feel her heart starting to race, hammering so hard in her chest that she believed everyone could hear it. Closing her eyes, she tried to count her breaths: one in one out. At least that was still under her control. Hyperventilating would only make it worse.

A tiny sob escaped her before Parker even knew she was crying. The fact ashamed her, but she couldn't help herself. This wasn't how she was supposed to be: trapped within herself, unable to control her body. She was a thief. A talented, well-trained thief. She wanted to get up, wanted to run, wanted to climb.

Would she ever be able to do that again? Squeezing her eyes shut once more, she fought against those rising thoughts. What if she would never get back to being her old self again?

She could feel her cheeks flushing bright red as she heard how the bedroom door was opened. She wanted to scream and tell the person to go away, because no one was supposed to see her like that: so desperate, so overwhelmed. But at the same time, something deep within her wanted the person to stay, even to come and hold her, and promise that one day, she would get back in control over herself.

"What...do you want?" she chose to ask eventually. At least her voice was cooperating, more or less, although it was far too quiet for her taste.

"Time for your medication," Eliot said. His voice was as calm as his entire appearance. Opening her eyes, she gazed up at him. She could see in his eyes that he was fighting with himself, but, like always, he was fantastic at hiding that.

"Pills?" she asked. "I...don't want pills."

"Those are good for you though," he told her, sitting down at the edge of her bed, presenting the small bottle to her. "They help your body relax."

"Isn't it relaxed enough yet?" she asked back. Looking away, she stared at a random spot behind him, knowing very well that avoiding eye contact wouldn't help either. She could feel his eyes resting on her, how closely he was studying her.

"Parker," he sighed then.

"What?" Closing her eyes, she swallowed hard to get rid of the lump in her throat, without success though. He stayed where he was, and she knew he wouldn't leave her alone, no matter how much she would ignore him. And, deep inside, she couldn't even deny that she didn't want him to go anywhere either.

"You'd...always be honest with me, right?" she decided to ask eventually.

"Sure," Eliot stated, slight hints of hesitation shining through in his voice. It took her another few moments of struggling until she could force herself to face him again.

"Do...do you think there's any chance for me to get back to...normal again?" she wanted to know. "And...don't lie."

One look into his eyes, and she knew he wouldn't. But he didn't answer right away either. She could see how he hesitated, almost physically struggling.

"Parker..." Eliot said again.

"No lying!" she interrupted him forcefully.

Another sigh escaped him. "I don't know," he admitted eventually. "I really don't know, Parker."

"But...maybe...my body just needs a while," she said quietly, trying desperately to prevent her voice from shaking. "I mean, I...I crashed into a building, hurt my back and my head. There...were bruises, right? Near...my spine?" As he nodded, she added, "So...maybe they...didn't go away like they were supposed to. Or maybe...I mean, I was out for months. Maybe my body...just needs more time."

He hesitated again. "The doctors considered all that, Parker," he explained then, looking more uncomfortable by the second. "They ran tons of tests on you, but...the way your body was responding to them...it's not the way it's supposed to go if you were going through a normal recovery process. They...well..."

His voice trailed off and he looked away. In silence, unable to respond, Parker studied Eliot, letting his words sink in. She had wanted him to be honest, but that didn't change she had hoped for a different answer in response.

"What?" she whispered.

"They believe your paralysis might be caused by psychological reasons," he told her softly. "Something in your subconsciousness, some kind of blockade, or whatever else it is, might prevent you from recovering."

He struggled visibly with keeping eye contact as she stared up at him in shock and disbelief. She was freezing again: deep within her, a sickening cold sensation was forming, slowly spreading into every inch of the cage that was her body.

"So...you wanna tell me...it's my fault?" Parker eventually managed to say.

"Of course not," Eliot replied quickly. It was hard to see him like that: hesitant, almost unsure of himself. She was a friend after all, a part of the family. And the family was supposed to be fine. "I said it might be something in your subconsciousness. The mind...it can do a lot of harm to yourself. Including to your body."

"But...but how..." she stammered, her voice trailing off again. Once more, she could feel her heart starting to race as a new panic attack was approaching. Tears were fogging her view, and she couldn't do anything to hold them back.

Her own mind was doing that to her? While she wanted nothing else but returning to being her old self, it was her own mind that prevented that from happening? It didn't matter whether or not said blockade was caused by her subconsciousness: she was causing what made sure she would depend on the others, even when it came to little all-day activities like using the toilet. And she had no idea how to make it stop.

"Leave...leave me alone," she whimpered, hating herself for how weak, how small her voice sounded. She was Parker, the world's best thief, a strong woman, who had run away as a little girl and had managed to survive in the streets on her own, without any support, without any comfort, without any love. She had learnt to control herself, and her life. Control was necessary to survive. And now, she had lost said control, due to whatever her subconsciousness had decided to do to her.

She was scared, like she had never been scared before. She wanted to run, but there was nowhere to go. And maybe, she would never be able to run again.

"Go!" she shrieked then. "Leave me alone!" Tears were falling freely now, and increased her wish to be alone. No one was supposed to see her like that: so helpless, so desperate. It was horrible enough she was feeling that way in the first place.

But he didn't go, didn't even move. In silence, Eliot set the small bottle of pills aside. He watched her, in this calm, controlled way. In this moment, she realised he wouldn't leave her alone, no matter what she would yell at him, and she knew there was nothing to hide either: he knew how desperate she was, how scared, how overwhelmed. Everyone did. Because they could see right through her.

There was nothing to hide, and as realisation hit her, holding back was no option anymore.

"I...don't want this. I don't want any of this, okay?!" she exclaimed, as loud as she could. "I...I'm a thief. I n-need to...to move! I can't...I can't...stay like this b-because my mind decided so! I can't! I can't do this! This isn't who I am! This isn't me!" A sob escaped her, despite all her attempts at holding it back. "I don't want to be...like that."

"I know," he said. Nothing else. Wordlessly, Eliot took her hands into his then, holding it in a firm grip. She couldn't close her fingers around it, but she could feel the touch. It was a faint sensation, but it was enough. She didn't care for the sobs, for the tears, which increased due to the tender gesture. For once, she allowed herself to give in to an emotion that was not caused by adrenaline, knowing for a fact that he wasn't going to judge her. Because he, and Nate, never did.

He just allowed her to cry, until no tears were left anymore and exhaustion threatened to take over again. She didn't dare to look up at him, or to thank him for the silent support. Instead, her eyes turned to the hand that was holding hers, and she dearly wished that sooner or later, she would be able to return the strong grip, in some way at least.

"Why don't we get you out of here and into the living room instead?" Eliot asked then. Parker could hear how much strength it cost him to keep his voice in his usual quiet, calm tone. "Hardison, he...well, he created a...wheelchair for you. It allows you to maneuver around the apartment and over to Nate's on your own." He paused. "You should give it a try, Parker."

"I don't want him to see me like this..." she replied quietly. "Or...Sophie." She wanted to add that it was bad enough he and Nate knew this side of her, but doubted she had to voice those thoughts.

"Parker," he sighed. "During those months when you were at the hospital, one of us was always by your side. We've seen you like that, you don't think they're aware of what you're going through right now?" He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. "Trust me, darlin', we're here for you. No matter what. There's no need to be ashamed." He paused. "You can't stay in here all day long, or sleep through it all the time. Sounds hard, but you gotta learn how to deal with it, Parker. Just keep in mind you're not alone with it."

All she offered in response was a nod. She didn't even try to argue as he lifted her up eventually and carried her into their living room.

* * *

Closing the door to the bathroom behind him, he leant back against it with a sigh. Squeezing his eyes shut for a moment, Eliot tried to sort his thoughts, and remain in control over his emotions. Seeing Nate drinking himself almost into a coma over and over again in the past had been painful enough.

But seeing Parker like this: so desperate, so confused, and helpless? That was a different story. So much, he wanted to offer something, anything that could help her. So much, he wanted to come up with a solution, or at least an explanation.

She felt like she had lost control, and so did he. It was his job to protect the team. To protect her. He knew he wasn't to blame for what had happened to her, but that didn't change he wished he could do more than plainly offering comfort.

But at the moment, offering comfort and making sure she knew she wasn't facing this challenge alone was all the team could offer. It didn't seem to be much for now, but he knew even the smallest gestures could be important at times.

Sighing deeply, Eliot returned into the living room, where Parker was already awaiting him, watching him from her location on the couch. Yes, he would make sure she knew they would be there for her. All the time.


	3. Chapter 3

**Title****:** Trapped  
**Summary****:** Sometimes, accepting love and support is the first step into the right direction.  
**Characters****:** Parker, Eliot, Nate, Sophie, Hardison  
**Pairings****:** Eliot/Parker, with Nate/Sophie  
**Rating****:** R  
**Disclaimer****:** I DON'T own anyone or anything. I DON'T own the characters. The fanfic is written for fun, NOT for profit.  
**Author****'****s****note****:** Huge hugs and thanks to my lovely friend akblake again, who's constantly coming up with so many great ideas and details for the story. :) And thanks so much also for the reviews!

* * *

Facing Nate and Eliot like this had already been difficult enough. Parker wasn't used to feeling weak and vulnerable. She was used to hiding those moments, to swallowing down her emotions and pretending she was fine. She trusted in the team by now, but still there were sides of her which she didn't want anyone to see.

But now, she didn't have a choice. She needed help, even with the slightest activities, and that ashamed her as much as the fact that she constantly felt like breaking out into tears. This was not what she had imagined, this was not a situation she had ever wanted herself to get into.

Because Parker was used to being strong, to being in control. How was she supposed to learn how to depend on others? The idea made her shudder. They would see her in her weakest moments. They would know she needed them.

How was she supposed to remain a thief, and part of this team, if she wasn't able to do what she had been doing for the past couple of years? She didn't want others to be responsible for her. Things had never been like that.

And even worse was the fact that apparently, it was her very own mind that prevented her from getting better, from returning to being her old self. Her subconsciousness had turned against her.

Sitting on the couch, Parker dearly wished she could just turn invisible, or disappear altogether. It felt good not to be trapped in a bed anymore, and Eliot had arranged her on the couch in a way that allowed her to sit upright, but that didn't change the strong discomfort she felt at the idea of having to face the rest of the team, too.

What would they do? Would they pity her? Would they try to comfort her? Or would they pretend nothing had changed in the first place? Nervousness was a feeling which Parker hadn't had to deal with often in the past. It had appeared for the first time when the team had expected her to act, to interact with people, as she had never been good at that.

After all, who needed to interact with people if one lived in the shadows, hidden from everyone's attention, while stealing, breaking into safes and rappelling? Human beings had confused her: so often, they were unpredictable, and their behaviour wouldn't make any sense at all.

Now, she was experiencing a whole new kind of nervousness. She trusted in the team, in those people, who had turned into the family she had never had. But so far, she had been the crazy kid, often driving the others crazy with her behaviour. They could still always count on her, and could rely on her skills. Now there was nothing funny left. They would have to be there, right by her side, trying to help her with handling this challenge. They couldn't rely on her skills, because she entirely depended on them.

A noise behind her caught Parker's attention then. Turning her head around as good as she could, she watched Eliot, seemingly busy with cleaning up the kitchen. During the past couple of years, Parker had learnt to understand people, despite all the problems she had had with that in the beginning. By now, she knew her teammates the best though. She could feel the situation made him nervous as well. Eliot was good at controlling himself, just like her. He could hide his emotions, could calm down and focus. This skill was needed in his job. Always stay focused, concentrate on the problem and solve it.

But the current situation seemed to overwhelm him as well. She could feel he wanted to help, wanted to do whatever he could to make her feel better. After all, she would try to do the same for her teammates. But he knew he couldn't solve her biggest problem, couldn't do much more than offering comfort and support. It was complicated for everyone, and she feared having to deal with those who couldn't handle it as well as him.

"You're hungry yet? Or need anything else?"

His voice startled her back to the present. Of course Eliot had noticed that she had been watching him, even without looking at her.

"No...I'm fine," Parker answered, at least partly convinced she was saying the truth. She wasn't hungry, or thirsty, although she hadn't eaten anything decent for a long while, thanks to being unconscious for so long. She shivered at the thought of how nurses must have tried to get food into her, and that the team had to use the same procedure on her after taking her home. Then she realised that even though she would be able to chew and swallow now, that didn't change she was still in need of help. They would have to feed her. This fact made her dislike the idea of eating and drinking even more.

"You have to though," Eliot said then, as if having read her mind. "Might not be nice, but your body needs it."

"So you're gonna...feed me?" she asked quietly.

Turning around, he gave her a long look before he answered, "There's also another way, but I guess you'd prefer being fed by us instead." He paused. "It's gonna be okay, you'll see."

With those words, he turned his attention back to the kitchen counter. Before she could allow her thoughts to drift off any further though, a knocking on the front door interrupted her. A second later, Nate let himself in.

"Parker," he greeted her. "I see you're awake again. That's good, Hardison and Sophie are on their way already." He offered a warm smile as he joined her on the couch. "They've missed you."

Parker tried to return his smile, but failed. She knew the man could see right through her, and she couldn't help but wonder how he was going to treat her. He studied her in silence for a moment before he asked, "How are you feeling, Parker?"

The answer for this question was easy, yet the words didn't want to leave her mouth. In a mix of surprise and hesitation, she stared back at him. Nate had talked to her in so many ways already, but never before, he had looked at her like that.

He cared. Nate simply cared. Most of the time, he would be busy with a job, would be thinking about one, or would be drunk. Now, nothing was distracting him. The full attention of his sober mind was resting on her. And she could see in his eyes that he truly cared. Just like Eliot.

This fact caused a surprising and unexpected warmth deep within Parker. Those two weren't pitying her, they didn't look down at the poor, helpless thief, who would most likely never be able to do what she was best at again, unless she figured out why her subconsciousness was preventing her from getting back in control over her body. They just wanted to be by her side, in whatever way she needed. Neither of them would lie, neither of them would play a role in front of her. Nate, despite the awkwardness of the situation, hadn't even bothered to numb his thoughts and feelings with alcohol. In some strange way, that was a comforting thought.

But before she could add more, the front door was opened once again. The rest of the team entered the apartment, and once again, Parker felt the strong urge to disappear. The moment she spotted the wheelchair, she could feel a new rush of discomfort. It didn't look the way those chairs usually did: a lot of high tech items had been added to it, and she knew very well why those were needed.

"Parker!" Sophie greeted her, a bright smile plastered across her face. Still, said smile couldn't overplay the hesitation in the woman's eyes. Firmly, the grifter pulled her into a short, tight embrace, which turned awkward due to the fact that she couldn't return it. The gesture itself felt surprisingly good though, much to Parker's surprise, and for a brief second, she wished her friend would hold her even closer. So she could feel something, anything again, at least for a bit.

Hardison was more hesitant. For a brief moment, he almost looked like he wanted to hug her as well, but decided not to do it. He threw a hesitant glance into Eliot's direction, who had joined the team in the living room, but didn't offer any reaction in response.

"Hey," he said eventually, with a smile trying his best to appear as relaxed and himself as possible, without much success. "Um...good to see you up again. You...well..." His voice trailed off again as he struggled with finding the right words. Parker couldn't blame him: she wouldn't have behaved any differently if she had been in his position. Interacting with people was difficult enough. Trying to cheer someone up, who was currently facing a living nightmare, was worse. Much worse.

"Hardison worked on your wheelchair for quite a while," Nate said then, deciding to jump in, trying to help the younger man along.

"Oh...uh...yeah." Hardison nodded eagerly. "Really invested some thinking into it, you know, 'cause we all know you wanna be up and moving around on your own and all. So I...yeah, I made sure the whole thing's as comfortable as a wheelchair can be, and you can use it already, even if..."

Once more, he censored himself, rubbing the back of his neck in an uncomfortable gesture. She could hear Eliot sighing behind her, and she could imagine the look he was currently giving the hacker.

"She does know she can't even use her hands right now," he hissed. "Just address it, man."

Hardison nodded again, and Parker couldn't help but wonder if they had discussed exactly this topic before. Hearing and seeing the exchange between the two men made her want to hide even more, and almost, she felt as she was indeed shrinking. Then, she felt a slight pressure against her side and as she turned her head around, she realised Nate had moved closer, steadying her with his body, preventing her from losing her balance. It was a subtle gesture, while his eyes remained resting on Hardison, and she silently thanked him for that.

"Okay, fine," the nervous hacker said eventually. "Yeah, I made sure you can use that chair, no matter how...mobile you are. First of all, I made it as comfy as possible. That joystick here, you can use it when your hands are...cooperating again. Don't even have to be in full control over them. Slight movements of the arm could do the work already." He paused, throwing a long glance at the object in question. "Until then...there are sensors up here, in the head rest. With the...movements of your head, and adding pressure in a certain way, you can control it. You know, make it go in the right direction, go faster or slower, whatever you want." He hesitated again, before he added, "You...you wanna try it, mama?"

But Parker didn't answer. In silence, she stared at what was supposed to help her with her daily business, and make sure that she could move from one location to the other on her own. She could see all the hard work Hardison had invested, and didn't even want to imagine how many hours he had spent with it.

The fact that she depended on this wheelchair though, that she had to use it in the first place, caused the thick lump in her throat to return, which made it almost impossible to speak. Now, she didn't just want to disappear, she wanted to cry and scream, and deny that this was reality. She was a thief, used to running, climbing, rappelling. She had jumped off the highest buildings the world had to offer, and could basically dance across the most complicated laser fields. Now there she sat, needing Nate to steady her, facing an object that was supposed to help her. Because her body wasn't under her control anymore.

"That's a good idea, but we're not in a rush, right?" Sophie said then, breaking the awkward silence. "You should get your laptop, and Nate can click Parker through the manual. Meanwhile, you, me and Eliot could take care of lunch."

"You wanna join me in my kitchen?" Eliot asked back, raising an eyebrow at the grifter.

"Oh, please." She sighed playfully. "Shouldn't you trust in me by now? I won't destroy your beloved kitchen. In fact, you couldn't ask for a better assistant than me."

"Yeah, but you said Hardison'd join in as well," Eliot stated.

"Hey, you wanna say you think I'd mess it up?" his friend asked back, staring at him with huge eyes.

Eliot shrugged, offering a smirk in response. "Yeah, guess that's what I'm trying to say."

"Guys!" Sophie sighed again. "Eliot, start cooking already. Hardison, go and get the laptop."

Both men exchanged another playful glare before they did like they were told. Parker, who had watched the scene in silence, felt a strong, warm rush of gratitude, caused by the other woman's actions. With just a few words, she had managed to wipe away the thick awkwardness that had bothered her so much, and the bickering had increased the welcome effect. No longer, she felt like disappearing when the laptop was started in front of her.

"You're feeling a little better now?" Nate asked then, his voice so quiet only she could hear him. At her nodded, he added, "I know this is hard, and feels strange. But everyone's here to help you. Just give yourself some time with this."

"I just...I wish I knew what's causing this blockade, and why it's preventing me from getting better." She paused. "I do know many people have been in my situation before though."

"That's not the point," he said. "It doesn't matter how many people have gone through a similar situation, and how they dealt with it. You are you. I just want you to keep in mind that we're here if you need us."

She nodded in response, knowing he didn't need anything else as an answer. With the hint of a relieved smile, Parker listened to Sophie, Eliot and Hardison, discussing in the kitchen, creating an almost normal atmosphere with that, while Nate explained the wheelchair to her.


	4. Chapter 4

**Title****:** Trapped  
**Summary****:** Sometimes, accepting love and support is the first step into the right direction.  
**Characters****:** Parker, Eliot, Nate, Sophie, Hardison  
**Pairings****:** Eliot/Parker, with Nate/Sophie  
**Rating****:** R  
**Disclaimer****:** I DON'T own anyone or anything. I DON'T own the characters. The fanfic is written for fun, NOT for profit.  
**Author****'****s****note****:** Once again, huge thanks to my lovely akblake for all the discussing and inspirations, and thanks so much for the reviews, too!

* * *

With a few words, Sophie had managed to step in and had made the awkwardness disappear for a while. Gratefully, Parker had listened to Nate while he had explained the wheelchair to her, in a very calm and unaffected voice. He wasn't treating her like a helpless child, and she couldn't thank him enough for that.

But then, her mood had headed into a different direction again. Listening to Nate's instructions had been fine. Actually having to use it was a different story though. It didn't cooperate the way she wanted it to, and even the tiniest movement required practising.

Eventually, she had figured out how to move from one spot to the other, but by this time, she had felt the urge to disappear again. The others were trying their best to support her, but said support only made her feel even more uncomfortable.

Fortunately, she hadn't been forced to join the team with having lunch. She had returned to her former location on the couch while her friends ate, relieved as they finally started a half-hearted conversation after minutes of silence.

By then, her own stomach was growling, but she didn't want to eat while everyone was around to witness how one of their own had to feed her, because she wasn't able to do so herself.

Eventually, Nate and Hardison had returned to the former's apartment while Sophie had stayed around, insisting on helping her with eating. Parker could feel the team was determined to offer an equal amount of support. Which felt odd to her, she had to admit, because in her current situation, she couldn't have cared less. All she hoped for was not to be pitied by them.

Closing her eyes, Parker took deep, slow breaths to get rid of her constantly increasing discomfort, but didn't succeed. Sitting in her new wheelchair now, the dining table in front of her, she felt helpless again. There had been a time when she had jumped onto the kitchen counter with a bowl of cereals, happily watching the others while munching on her favourite food.

She barely looked up as Sophie joined her at the table and places a bowl in front of her. Parker's stomach growl even more as she saw what her friend was presenting to her.

"Soup?" she asked disbelieving. "Why can't I have something of what you ate?"

"Because your body needs to readjust to normal food first," Eliot said before Sophie got a chance to reply. "I know you can eat solid food, but your stomach might not cooperate with that."

Sophie nodded in agreement. "We don't want you to feel sick, do we?" she asked. "Of course soup isn't really exciting food, but I think if it's cooked by Eliot, it's just fine." Ignoring the way he rolled his eyes at her before he returned into his kitchen, she filled a spoon with the liquid food. Parker eyed her hesitantly, once again feeling the all too familiar wish to disappear.

"Give it a try," Sophie said, in a voice that made her loathe the situation even more. She could feel her friend desperately wanted to help her, wanted to be the comforting big sister. But the softness of her voice, along with her encouraging smile had the opposite effect.

Parker opened her mouth like she was told and accepted the spoonful of soup. Indeed, it tasted good, and she enjoyed the warmth that started to fill her as she swallowed. The brief moment of joy faded away though as she her friend offered more to her.

Sophie sighed. "Listen, I know you'd rather like to eat on your own," she said softly. "But right now, that's not possible. There's absolutely nothing to be ashamed of, okay? We're a family, Parker. We're here to help. Just because you depend on others doesn't mean you're weak."

Parker didn't bother to reply. She knew whatever she would say, Sophie would try to come up with counter arguments. No, she wasn't weak because she wasn't able to eat on her own, or even to use the toilet on her own. No, there was no need to feel embarrassed when she needed help with those actions she had never paid any attention to in the past. Yes, the team would be right by her side, and it was okay to cry, it was okay to ask for help.

Parker knew all those answers that would follow whatever statement she would make. But words didn't change anything. Words, no matter how sweet they were, no matter how well-chosen, wouldn't wipe away what she was feeling, wouldn't make those dark thoughts go away.

Everyone had their very own way of comforting people, and most of the time, said strategies were based on one's own needs and skills. Sophie's strength was the ability to talk. She knew how to use words. But Parker wasn't used to them. For too long, she had been alone. Actions had mattered to her. Words had been empty promises far too often.

In silence, she ate, accepting one spoonful of soup after the other, trying to avoid any eye contact though. Sophie accepted that, allowing her to eat in silence, although Parker couldn't help the feeling that her friend had more to say, and was struggling with censoring herself. Her theory was proven right as, by the time the bowl was empty, she eventually spoke up again.

"Parker, I understand that you need your time and don't want to talk about it right now," she said. "It's your right and no one's going to push you. But you can't keep it all inside forever, and keep on denying reality. You're not alone in this. It's a challenge, and it's hard, but we're here to help you deal with it."

"I know that," Parker stated quietly, only for a second allowing herself to look up before she stared back at the table in front of her. Yes, she knew it. She knew they would be there. She knew they would listen, would help. And she knew she had to accept the situation she was currently in. It was reality: she couldn't deny it, no matter how much she wanted to. She had to accept the facts, and had to try to work with them. But at the moment, that seemed to be more than she could handle.

Sophie remained sitting in front of her for a while. Then, with a barely audible sigh, she got up. "Keep in mind that you can come and talk to me whenever you like. I'll listen. And if you need anything else, maybe things you're more comfortable with when a woman is around, just ask."

Parker offered a tiny nod. She continued to stare ahead until she was sure Sophie had left. Only then, she dared to look up, glad to see that Eliot was still busy in the kitchen, rather than watching her.

"She's disappointed, right?" she said, more to herself than to him.

"No, she's not." Stopping what he was doing, Eliot turned around to face her. He didn't add more though, and Parker was grateful for that.

* * *

The rest of the day seemed to pass by like a surreal follow up of blurry images. Each team member tried to offer support, in their very own way. For Parker, that was almost unbearable. Something deep within her still didn't want to accept the fact that at least for now, she wasn't able to use her body the way she wanted to.

In fact, she couldn't use it at all, and as one hour followed the next, she had to face more and more moments that reminded her of how much she depended on the others. She had tried to blind those moments out as good as possible, had allowed the others to do what had to be done, without responding, without even looking at them.

She knew she had to get used to it, had to accept the situation just like that. But at the moment, Parker's mind was refusing to do so. The dull sensation, the fact that she could look at her hands and legs, but knowing that she couldn't use them, reminded her more of a nightmare, than of reality. And she wanted to wake up. So much.

Fortunately, the team hadn't argued when she had announced she was tired and had asked to go to bed early. Her body still needed to rest after all, and this fact was a good excuse to get some distance between herself and those people she considered to be her family: those people who kept on reminding her of what she didn't want to hear.

Almost relieved she had felt as Eliot had helped her to get back into her bed. Unlike earlier, it almost seemed to be the most comforting location in the house. In here, the concerned, supportive looks of the others wouldn't bother her. In here, she was on her own, could blind out whatever she wanted to.

She had willingly accepted the mild sleeping pill: even though Parker still hated medication, she wanted to sleep. Unfortunately, he had refused to give her one of those pills he had offered earlier: there was a chance she would actually dream now, and he had reminded her repeatedly not to hesitate and call for him in case she suffered from a nightmare.

Parker hadn't had time to think any further about the possibility of a potential nightmare. Very soon, she felt herself drifting off, for a while allowing her to leave all her thoughts, all her feelings behind.

The more than welcome slumber didn't last long though. Parker couldn't tell what exactly she had dreamt. One fact had clearly stood out though: in said dream, she had been able to walk again. She had been up and running, had used her hands and her legs the way she knew and loved to. She knew a smile had been plastered across her face, and a strong relief had filled her, making her want to skip like a bunny, in pure joy. Everything had been fine again: she could walk, she could move. Now, finally, she could be the crazy, little thief again.

And then, she had woken up. The dream had felt real: so real that she was shocked to realise she couldn't move a single inch. For endlessly long minutes, which felt like hours to her, she stared into the darkness, her heart pounding hard in her chest, in utter confusion, until realisation hit her and she remembered.

No, the dream hadn't been real. It had been created by her imagination, by what she was longing for the most, along with this beautiful sensation of feeling so relieved that she could have hugged the whole world, even without being on antidepressants. Reality was different, and the darkness that greeted her fitted perfectly to that.

Parker tried her best to control her breathing, but realisation that she had been dreaming, that she couldn't dance across a laser field again like she had done so many times in the past, hurt too much. The aching pain made it hard to breathe, tears were rising, despite her best intentions. She knew panting like that, trying desperately to fill her lungs with fresh air, would only make her feel worse, but she couldn't help herself.

Her rising panic rapidly increased as she realised she was close to hyperventilating. Only now, she remembered what Eliot had told her before offering the sleeping pill: an offer which she hadn't been willing to take. Until now. But as she opened her mouth to shout for help, no words would leave her lips. Her eyes widened in fear. Had she lost the ability to speak as well? Had her subconsciousness decided to trap her within herself completely now?

Parker barely heard how the bedroom door was pushed open. She barely reacted as the lights were switched on, blinding her. It took her a while until she could hear that he was talking to her, repeatedly saying her name.

But she immediately noticed he was holding her hand again. Still, the sensation was dull and odd, but, to her own surprise and shock, she had been deeply longing for this gesture ever since she had opened her eyes a few minutes ago.

"Parker, you're hyperventilating," she could hear him say then. His other hand was gently brushing through her hair, in another attempt at soothing her. "Look at me, Parker! You gotta calm down, this is only making it worse, darlin'."

She needed her entire self control to turn around and face him. Eliot continued talking to her, once again in his calm, quiet voice.

"Shh, it's okay," he said. "Everything's okay. Try to breathe with me. Just like that."

He told her when to breathe in, when to breathe out. She needed a while to find the right rhythm again, but with his help, she eventually succeeded. The relief of being able to breathe again didn't kick in though. Instead, a new wave of emotions greeted her, causing the already falling tears to increase.

In shock, Parker realised that a few words and a hand being held weren't enough anymore. She wanted to be comforted, wanted to be held, wanted to be told that everything would be fine again. She was longing for that.

And she hated herself for this wish, was almost disgusted by it. Never before, she had depended on others, and definitely had never wanted to do so in the first place. She hadn't wanted to be held, to be comforted, to receive such an intense kind of attention. Parker had been used to taking care of herself. Always. She could handle every challenge, no matter how complicated it would be.

Until now. Until she had been forced to rely on her team. And until something deep within her had started to wish, to long for whatever her friends had to offer.

"Can I do anything for you?" he asked then, interrupting her confusing train of thoughts.

Parker only nodded in response. She was unable to lie, unable to put on the mask that was supposed to hide her true emotions. Eliot knew about those anyway as he had seen her in a similar situation a few hours ago. To her surprise, she didn't have to say more, didn't have to explain herself. In silence, he pulled her into his arms, holding her as tightly as humanly possible, instinctively giving her what she would have never dared to ask for.


	5. Chapter 5

**Title:** Trapped  
**Summary:** Sometimes, accepting love and support is the first step into the right direction.  
**Characters:** Parker, Eliot, Nate, Sophie, Hardison  
**Pairings:** Eliot/Parker, with Nate/Sophie  
**Rating:** R  
**Disclaimer:** I DON'T own anyone or anything. I DON'T own the characters. The fanfic is written for fun, NOT for profit.  
**Author's note:** Thank you so, so much to my wonderful friend akblake for encouraging, for discussing and for supporting! You're the best, thanks for being so awesome! And thanks so much also for the lovely comments! :)  
**WARNING: This chapter is darker than the previous ones. It deals with dark themes, and I'd like you to consider that when you decide whether or not you want to read it.**

* * *

The first few days after Parker's restless night, Eliot had agreed to give her the stronger sleeping pills again, making sure that at least at night, she would be able to relax a bit, and not be bothered by dreams. Still that didn't change the moment of actually waking up, when they stopped working.

The moment when she would realise that she still depended on the others, that she was still in need of help with even the smallest actions, and that still she had to use Hardison's wheelchair. It was a challenge, and more and more, she was wondering if she was able to handle it.

The team, of course, was as sweet as ever. Those people, who she hadn't trusted at all in the beginning, had definitely turned into the family she had always secretly been wishing for. Yet she was overwhelmed by them, and embarrassed because she needed them so much.

Neither of them seemed to mind. She truly believed so. Of course she was still miles away from understanding people like the others did. But even Parker could tell that they cared, and really wanted her to feel better, as soon as possible.

Or at least wanted to offer as much comfort as possible. During the first week, they slowly started to adjust to the new situation, and interacting with her seemed to get easier for all of them.

For her, this first week felt like a nightmare though. Every single day, she would wake up, and for a brief moment, she would wonder if everything had just been a bad dream. Then, after the first few seconds, she would be reminded that no, this was her reality. And who knew when she would start making the first progresses.

Progresses. How much she was longing for those. Parker was bothered by the fact that she didn't know what exactly was causing her problems. She had no idea what was blocking her, what was preventing her from even moving a single finger. To make it even worse, she also suffered from occasional rushes of pain, requiring the use of even more pills to keep those under control. In the beginning, she had wondered if those could mean she would be able to feel again soon. Both, Eliot and Nate, had refused to encourage her ideas though, until she had realised that they feared she was just dealing with phantom pain.

Squeezing her eyes shut, Parker released a soft groan as another wave of pain filled her, this time starting in her hands, rushing through her arms. She couldn't move them, couldn't hold them, couldn't even adjust their positions on her own. Taking slow and deep breaths, she tried to ease the pain, or at least to prevent herself from overreacting to it.

She really didn't want to hyperventilate again. Even a week later, she was still embarrassed by her intense reaction to waking up and realising that being up and running had just been a dream. Eliot hadn't mentioned it again, hadn't brought it up in front of the others, but she hadn't forgotten how scared she had been, how much she had cried, and how deeply she had been longing for the comfort he had to offer. He had held her tight for almost an hour: simply had held her close until she had stopped crying completely. No single word had been exchanged, and once again, she had mentally thanked him for that.

Parker wasn't too surprised as she could feel new tears rising. She didn't bother to blink them away, knowing new ones would follow. They weren't caused by the pain itself. She simply had enough. She couldn't bear this: not she, of all people.

She was a thief. Being the world's best thief had defined her. Parker was convinced there wasn't more to her than her skills to open every safe the world had to offer, to get into buildings and rooms and steal whatever she had to steal. She was fantastic at this. Brilliant even.

She was a thief. Always had been, since her childhood. And now, she had lost the ability to do the only things she was truly good at. She couldn't get her job done if she wasn't able to use her hands and legs. She could only offer advice, and watch from the distance. There wouldn't be any rushes of adrenaline anymore, no rappelling, no thrill of breaking into yet another safe, yet another museum or office building. There would be no risk of getting caught by a security guy, and disappearing last minute before they could see her.

Because she couldn't even move her fingers. Parker continued to breathe slowly and steadily, and after a while, even the tears stopped. The dull, aching sensation deep within her stayed though. It had done so during the entire week, and by now, she could barely handle it anymore.

She had enough of this, had enough of waking up every day, trying to move a finger, or a hand, or maybe even a leg, without any success. The team was sweet, but would they be willing to keep this up forever? What if she didn't figure out what was causing her blockade? What if she had to stay immobile like this? She wasn't a thief anymore: the only thing that had ever defined her. She had lost herself, and she had enough of feeling helpless.

Parker just wanted to sleep. For longer than a few hours. She took another deep breath, held it for a moment.

She knew she didn't have many options. Taking pills was the only one, and she couldn't do so herself. She knew sleeping pills wouldn't work either: by the time she would ask a second person to give her another dose, she would already be too sleepy to take those in the first place, and then would wake up again after a few hours, like she always did.

So the painkillers would have to do the job, especially as she needed those right now anyway. Releasing a soft sigh, she left hers and Eliot's apartment, and made her way into Nate's. She found Sophie first, and the woman didn't hesitate a second to offer two painkillers to her, especially as she saw the painful expression in her friend's eyes.

The medicine worked quickly, and she was grateful as the pain in her arms stopped, although she couldn't help but wonder why pills could stop pain that seemed to not exist in the first place.

She waited a while until she approached Hardison, repeating that she was in pain, that she was in need of something that would ease it. The hacker, still especially over-motivated with trying to be there for her, quickly got the requested pills, wishing her over and over again to get better.

By the time Parker returned to her apartment, she almost felt guilty. Those two had proven once again how much they wanted to help her. She had seen it in their eyes, in their whole behaviour. But she just wanted to sleep, for longer than a few hours. For much longer.

Her mind was spinning by the time Nate came around for a short visit, asking how she was doing. Sophie had told him that she wasn't feeling well, but that she had accepted her wish to be alone for a bit. Parker, deciding that it was worth a try, informed him that she was still hurting, which wasn't even a lie in the first place, and asked for another dose of painkillers. Nate hesitated for a moment, but eventually gave in to her wish.

Obviously, she was more convincing than she had ever dared to imagine. Much to her dislike, Nate stayed around for a bit, not willing to leave her alone while feeling uncomfortable like that. He didn't say much, just sat by her side, watching whatever game was currently displayed on hers and Eliot's TV. It took her almost half an hour to convince him that she wanted to be alone, and that she would be just fine. The long, questioning look Nate gave her in response made her nervous, but her spinning mind prevented her from thinking about it any further. Too relieved she was as he finally got up and left.

And then, she was alone. Dearly, Parker wished that she would be able to fall asleep soon, and stay asleep for a very long while. Maybe then, all those thoughts would finally disappear. Maybe then, she would dream again, would remember what it was like to run and skip, to dance and jump off a tall building, to move her hands and her legs. And maybe then, she wouldn't be woken up in the middle of the night, realising that everything she had imagined was just wishful thinking.

But she didn't fall asleep. Instead, her mind was spinning even more, making her feel dizzy. Her stomach felt sick and uncomfortable, and more than once, she got to the edge of throwing up. Very soon, realisation hit her that maybe, just maybe her plan had been a mess right from the start. How should painkillers probably help her to fall asleep, and stay asleep for longer than a few hours, allowing her to dream of a nice, lovely world in which everything would be fine again? How naïve had she been? And what had she gotten herself into?

She didn't know how much time had passed since Nate had left when the front door was opened again. Parker barely got the chance to make eye contact with him when Eliot had already realised something was wrong with her. His eyes narrowed, in this all too familiar way. Then, they darted to the coffee table, and she realised Nate had forgotten to put the pills away. On purpose maybe?

She watched him in silence as he strode over to the table and picked up the little bottle. "How many of those have you taken?" he asked then, studying her with this piercing expression that seemed to be looking straight into her soul.

"T-two," she managed to answer. "N-Nate gave...them to...me."

Eliot nodded slowly. "And altogether?"

Parker didn't answer. In shock, she stared up at him. How had he figured out that she had taken more than she should have? She shivered, but couldn't tell whether that was due to the pills or to the look he was giving her.

"I...I just...wanted to..." she stammered.

"Parker!" he interrupted her firmly, startling her. "How many?! Tell me how many you took!"

"Or what?" she couldn't help but ask back. "You...you're gonna force me to say? How?"

"I'm not gonna force you to tell me," he told her coldly. "But I'm gonna make you throw them up again, and then I'll take you right back to the hospital. It's not like you can fight back, right?"

Those words eventually convinced her, because Parker knew him well enough to be aware of the fact that he wasn't joking. "Each of...them gave me...two." She shuddered. "I...just wanted to...sleep. But...the...the sleeping pills won't let me...sleep long enough. I just...I want to sleep! I want to stop thinking all the time! And...and feeling!"

"So you decided to ask the others to give you painkillers?" he wanted to know, staring at her in disbelief. "You do know what happens when you take too many of those, right? They don't make you sleep. They make you feel sick! They can even cause internal bleeding. In your stomach for example. That's what you wanted to happen?"

She didn't answer, and he didn't bother to talk to her any longer either. Instead, he firmly grabbed the handle of her wheelchair and pushed her towards the bathroom. A minute later, he had bent her over the toilet seat, helping her to throw up what had been left in her stomach. Once again, tears were fogging her view, and this time, she felt embarrassed in a whole new way.

Parker knew she had messed up, and only now, she realised how her actions had to appear to him. She hadn't meant to go that far. She had just wanted to sleep for a while, to dream happy dreams, and not be bothered by bad thoughts and pain. She didn't dare to speak as he carried her into her bedroom. He didn't say more than necessary either as he sat in the chair next to her bed, watching her as he waited for any after-effects, caused by the painkillers. They remained in this awkward, almost painful silence for what felt like eternity to her, and indeed lasted for a couple of hours. Then, without a further word, he got up. Before she could ask what he wanted to do next, he had lifted her up again and carried her back to her wheelchair. It took her a while until she found the courage to speak.

"What...what are you doing?" she wanted to know, not caring for how tiny her voice had to sound to him again.

"Taking you back to the hospital," he stated.

"But...no!" Parker exclaimed. "No hospital! Please! I...I'm fine! I didn't throw up again, and my stomach's not hurting, and..."

"That's not the point, Parker!" Eliot interrupted her. "I'm getting you back because of what you just tried to do!"

"But that wasn't even my intention!" she shouted back, finally able to increase the volume of her voice. "I...I said I just wanted to sleep! I never wanted to...to..." She shuddered at the thought. "I didn't want to do that! I just wanted to sleep, and for longer than those few hours those sleeping pills allow me to sleep, because...can't you understand?! You have no idea what this is like! I'm a thief! And now look at me! Look at me! I can't even move my damn hands! How am I ever supposed to be a thief again? It's...it's why I became part of this...this team. Because I've been the world's best thief. And now...now I depend on you guys, and the worst is that...that I need you so much! All of you! I...I want you to be there and make me feel better, and I want you to...to comfort me. To...to hold me. But that's not me! That's not who I've been! I'm a thief, and for that, I...I need to run and climb, and I have to control my body. But I completely lost control! Don't you get it?! You of all people should understand me! I just...want to get back in control over myself, and do the only thing I'm good at. There's nothing else left of me otherwise! I've always just been a thief, I have nothing else to offer! I need to get back in control! But...but I don't know how, and...and so I just...I wanted to sleep! I wanted to sleep and dream about how it'd been like to be...me. My old self. I just wanted to sleep and dream, that's all! Don't you get that?!"

With huge eyes, Parker stared up at him, waiting for any kind of reaction, dearly hoping she had managed to convince him. Eliot glanced back at her, in silence, but to her utter surprise, he didn't look angry anymore, or shocked. He looked surprised, in an almost good way even.

"What?" she snapped. "Why are you staring?!"

"You really don't know, Parker?" Eliot asked back. "Look at yourself."

With those words, he nodded towards her hands, and then, she finally understood. Gazing downwards, she realised her hands were no longer stiffly resting in her lap. Instead, she had firmly grasped handfuls of the soft fabric of her pants, fingers tightly holding on to it. In shock, she stared at her hands, for a couple of moments unable to process what she was seeing.

"How...?" she eventually managed to ask. Parker looked up as Eliot knelt in front of her. So close, she could see hints of excitement sparkling in his eyes. He hadn't been prepared for this either. Not now.

"Can you try to open your hands again?" he asked softly.

"How?" she repeated. "I don't even know how I did that in the first place."

"Just try," Eliot encouraged her.

Nodding, Parker did like she was told. Concentrating, she tried to open her hands, and indeed, her fingers let go of the fabric, stretching inch by inch until they lay flat on her legs again. She smiled proudly, before a new rush of fear filled her.

"What if they're gonna stay like this?" she wanted to know.

"Then try again," he said.

And trying again she did. To Parker's growing surprise, she managed to clench her hands into fists once more, and then unclenched them again. It was difficult and exhausting, but it was working. In disbelief, she looked up, meeting his eyes, needing another moment until her smile returned.

"I can use my hands again!" she said. "At least a bit."

Eliot nodded. "Yeah. You still feel like sleeping for ages and hiding in your dreams?"

Parker's cheeks flushed in embarrassment. She had almost forgotten about that. "I really just wanted to sleep and dream. You believe me, don't you? I...didn't really think about it. I had no idea what I was about to do."

"Yeah, I got that." He sighed. "See, I do understand you, okay? Why you want to be in control so much. Why you'd rather like to run and hide in your dreams, 'cause the world's nicer in them, right? I do get it. But...see, Parker, you have to learn that there's more to you than just a thief, okay? Yeah, it's what you're best at, fine. But defining you like that..." He shook his head. "You're trying to run, Parker. But that's not gonna work. Don't ask me how often I wanted to run already: from my past, from what I did, from what I saw, from what I experienced, from everything really. But fleeing isn't a solution at all. I learnt that a long time, ago, and so should you. I know you hate depending on us, but so what? You're more than just a good thief. This team...it is some kind of family. We do care. Everyone of us does. You gotta learn to accept that, and to ask for help. Maybe that's even what's causing that damn blockade in the first place. Maybe you gotta learn to rely on others, to ask for support, and to stop believing there's nothing else but a brilliant thief to you. There's much more, and maybe you should finally learn to see that as well." He offered a hint of a smile as he added, "Maybe screaming it all out and admitting what's really going on in your mind eased that blockade a bit. Might be why you can finally use your hands again."

Parker nodded in response, surprised realising that she was able to mirror his tiny smile. "So...if I promise I won't try to escape reality and try to hide in my dreams again...will you not take me back to the hospital? I promise, really! I'll...I'll rather focus on my hands now, see if I can train them to move even better."

Much to her relief, he nodded. "Yeah, you can stay here, but you'll have to deal with me supervising you more. Just 'cause you made a promise and are excited right now doesn't mean I trust you not to try something like that again. And we'll also have to make sure you can't drag the others into your plans."

"No!" Parker's eyes widened at his words. "Please don't tell them! I...don't want them to misunderstand it and worry even more. I really didn't mean to harm myself!"

"I'm not gonna tell them everything," Eliot answered. "But I'll tell them to leave the medication stuff to me. 'Cause too many people involved can mess it up. That's all."

She nodded again. "Thank you. And...sorry for creating such a mess. I really didn't mean to. I just...it's hard to accept. I've always been in control. I had to if I wanted to survive. And now...I have to rely on you guys so much. It's hard to learn that's okay, and to understand that...there might be more to me than just a good thief."

"You really are more than a good thief," he repeated. "Much more. We'll make you understand that. You'll see."

With those words, Eliot placed a quick kiss onto her cheek and got up. Parker watched him as he returned to the bathroom. Then she turned her attention back to her hands, smiling as she continued to clench and unclench them. She had made a big step into the right direction, and was determined to make more. She knew he was right: she shouldn't run and hide. And maybe, just maybe, accepting support wasn't so difficult after all.


	6. Chapter 6

**Title:** Trapped  
**Summary:** Sometimes, accepting love and support is the first step into the right direction.  
**Characters:** Parker, Eliot, Nate, Sophie, Hardison  
**Pairings:** Eliot/Parker, with Nate/Sophie  
**Rating:** R  
**Disclaimer:** I DON'T own anyone or anything. I DON'T own the characters. The fanfic is written for fun, NOT for profit.  
**Author's note:** Like always, thanks so much to akblake for being so inspiring! And thanks so much also for the reviews of course! :)

* * *

When Parker woke up, sunshine was already finding its way into her bedroom. For the first time since she had woken up in her new bed a week ago, she could fully appreciate it. The team had turned it into a lovely, cosy place. The sunlight made it appear even nicer, drawing surreal silhouettes on the wooden surfaces.

A smile lit her face, and for a second, she had to admit the sensation felt strange to her. She hadn't smiled even once during the past week. With the exception of the previous day, despite how dark it had started. The pain had bothered her, and the wish to go back to sleep for a long time had become almost unbearable.

And then, she had been able to use her hands. During the hours until she had gone to bed, she had feared she would lose this ability again, and had kept on clenching and unclenching her fingers in an attempt to train them and make sure they would stay mobile like that.

Her eyes travelled to her hands, resting on top of her stomach. Her smile widened as she managed to wiggle her fingers slightly, and then allowed them to grab her soft blanket. By now, using them wasn't even exhausting anymore.

She continued grasping her blanket, lifting each finger, wiggling them, stretching and curling them. A rush of excitement filled her at the sight, and she couldn't deny she was amazed by how something little like this could bring such joy.

Maybe people were right when they said that the small details mattered the most. In the past, she had appreciated all the shiny things she had stolen, or an extraordinary safe, or the rush of adrenaline when she had jumped off a high building. Now that she had to face this big challenge, she had to learn that even something little like being allowed to use her hands again could feel like a wonder, and could cause the wish to giggle in joy.

A deep sigh escaped her as she placed her hands flat on her stomach again. Eliot had told her to be patient; one step after the other. Parker still didn't know what had caused her blockade, or when she would make more progresses. But at least now there was a possibility that one day, she might return to being her old self. There was hope. And she was determined to do her best. No more running: she would fight. Like she always had.

* * *

It had been obvious to everyone that Parker had been struggling more and more during her first week after waking up. Eliot knew she had been trying to deny reality, hadn't been willing to accept that she had lost control over her body and couldn't use it the way she wanted to. She had felt like someone had trapped her in one of her worst nightmares.

Parker was a thief. Eliot had always been aware of how much this title defined her. Stealing had been her business. She hadn't learnt how to interact with people. She had learnt how to make her way across a laser field instead. She hadn't visited a high school. She had been taught how to open safes and get her way around security system.

And somewhere along the line, she had learnt that in her line of business, control was absolutely necessary. So was a lack of trust in everyone but herself. Every movement had to be well-planned, she had depended on her hands as much as she had depended on her legs. And she hadn't needed support either. By anyone.

Now, she found herself facing an entirely new situation. She had to rely on others, and had to face the possibility that she couldn't be the world's best thief anymore, at least for a long while. Being confronted with that had been a shock, and more than she had been able to handle.

How much being a thief really defined Parker had still surprised Eliot though. Her desperate speech had been entirely honest, and for once, she had been willing to share every single of her thoughts with him. For once, she hadn't tried to put on a mask and hide her real feelings.

Parker was more than just a thief, and she was definitely more than a crazy girl, who had never learnt how to read people, and how to properly communicate with them. There was a depth to her personality that shone through at times, especially when she released bits and pieces of her troubled past.

But Parker was incapable of seeing all the layers that were part of her. She had always seen herself as 'just a thief', and had been encouraged in her view a few times too often. Now it was the team's job to help her with figuring out that she was more, that being unable to control her body at the moment didn't mean she had lost herself, like she seemed to believe. She was still a strong, young woman, with a lot of brilliant skills, and still part of a team that loved her deeply.

That she would have the wish to just go back to sleep, and sleep for longer than just the few hours the sleeping pills would allow her to, hadn't really come as a surprise, although it had still shocked and frightened him. Parker had been willing to make a drastic step to flee and hide in her dreams, where she could be her old self again. He didn't want to imagine what could have happened to her if he had found her a few hours later, unaware of the amount of painkillers she had made the others give her.

Of course she hadn't been aware of what she had almost done to herself, at least he hoped she had been honest about her true intentions behind her actions. For him, it had been a wake up call though: they had to pay even more attention to her. Parker was smart, and she knew how to get what she wanted, especially if she was desperate. A slip up like that couldn't happen again.

And maybe it wouldn't. A smile lit Eliot's face as he remembered how her hands had suddenly clenched, how her slim fingers had firmly closed around the fabric of her pants. She had been completely unaware of her own actions, and maybe that was the main reasons why she had been able to use her hands in the first place. He was still convinced that a blockade in her subconsciousness was causing the paralysis. Maybe, just maybe, her outburst had unblocked something. Maybe now she would be able to keep on making progresses, until she would be back to her old self.

When he entered her bedroom, he found her already awake and awaiting him. He was relieved to see her like that: up and smiling. He was amazed by how much he had missed to see her like that during the past week, and even more during the past couple of months. Seeing her unconscious had been just as bad as seeing her depressed, desperate, as if she wasn't really there.

Now he could see hope in Parker's eyes. Eliot didn't know for sure why she was suddenly capable of using her hands again, but he was glad it had eventually happened. She had been at a very low point the previous day, and he feared that if this little progress hadn't happened, they really would have had a problem with her. Someone would have had to supervise her non-stop, to make sure she didn't get any more ideas that could get her into serious trouble.

Fortunately, her body, or mind, had taken care of that. He smiled as she lifted a hand when he entered. Yes, he loved to see her like that. He just hoped that she wouldn't fall into an even deeper, darker hole the moment she realised that getting back to her old self would still require a lot of hard work, and that further progresses could take a while. He knew a lot of frustration would be ahead, and he would need good nerves to handle her mood swings by the time he would start physical therapy with her. For now, her excitement would give her the motivation to keep going though, and he wouldn't mess with that.

"Look, I can still move them," she said, waving her fingers at him. "I already thought they'd be all stiff again in the morning." She hesitated before she added, "Is it silly to be afraid that I could lose my ability to move them again?"

Eliot shook his head. "No, it's not silly. But you shouldn't keep on thinking that. Your hands are fine. Wondering if they could get stiff again will just stress you out." He helped her to sit up and then with getting into her wheelchair. "You're hungry?"

Parker nodded eagerly. "My stomach's been growling all the time."

"Then why didn't you wake me up?" he wanted to know, raising an eyebrow at her.

"'Cause I thought you were tired, silly." Parker gave him a funny look. "You think I don't know it's exhausting to take care of me all the time? Carry me here, help me with that. Thought you might want to sleep in a little."

Another smile was offered by her: one of those honest, innocent smiles. Mentally, he shook his head at her. Parker, the one who'd blurt out whatever thought she had, who had such a problem with understanding others at times, didn't want to wake him up despite being hungry, just because she thought he wanted to relax a bit. The fact warmed his heart, and at the same time relieved him as well: Parker trying to think of others meant she wasn't entirely focused on denying the current situation any longer. He doubted she had accepted it yet either, but as long as it wasn't bothering her too much, he was okay with that. He wanted her to enjoy her current joy, hoping it would keep on pushing her forward.

"Can I have cereals?" she asked as she stopped her wheelchair at the dining table. Before she had gone to bed the previous day, he had helped her with practising to use the joystick rather than the sensors in the head rest. It never failed to amaze him how quickly she learnt: another skill that wasn't just limited to being a thief.

"No more soup, remember?" she added as he didn't answer. "You said I can eat solid food again."

"Yeah, but cereals?" Eliot asked back. "Why can't you try and eat something decent instead? I could make you something if you like."

"For lunch, yeah. Cook something awesome." Parker nodded again. "But now I want cereals. Please?"

Her smile widened as he rolled his eyes at her in response. There was a reason why he hadn't wanted to have this kind of food at their apartment in the first place, but both, Hardison and Sophie, had insisted that it would be just fine, especially as they would be happy if she was willing to eat in the first place.

Unwillingly, he filled a bowl with cereals and milk, firmly refusing to add any of her special requests to her breakfast. It was a challenge for him not to smile at her behaviour, and he couldn't help but hope that she would stay in this mood for a while.

Returning to the table, Eliot placed the bowl in front of her, picking up the spoon like he usually did, but stopped mid-movement as she shook her head.

"May I try?" she asked, almost a little shyly. "I mean, I know I...can't really use my arms yet, but I can hold it. So maybe...you could...while I..."

Her voice trailed off and instinctively, she looked away again. Parker's idea had come as a surprise, Eliot had to admit. He didn't mind though. She was willing to try, and he wasn't going to argue. He knew: drawing the line between encouraging her and letting her do something she wouldn't be capable of, which would possibly disappoint her, wouldn't be easy. He wanted to help her though, and dealing with his own hesitation was his job.

And so, he offered the spoon to her. Slowly, Parker's fingers closed around it. Her grip was weak, her hand was shaking, her eyebrows narrowed in concentration. But she didn't back off, didn't change her mind. Carefully, Eliot helped her to fill the spoon with cereals and milk before he guided her arm. Part of the milk spilled across her chin and her shirt, but the cereals themselves landed where they were supposed to go. They repeated their actions a couple of times, and got better at aiming with every attempt.

His amazement increased as he saw how willing she was to keep going, despite all the milk that was soaking her shirt by now, despite how exhausting holding the spoon had to be for her. She was a fighter: he had always believed she was. During the past week, he had tried whatever he could to make her accept her current situation, to keep on fighting. He was grateful to see that finally, she had reached this point, all by herself.

"What a mess," Parker giggled then. "I look like a baby!"

Caught by her smile for a moment, Eliot forgot to reply. Just as he opened his mouth, the front door was opened though and Nate entered. Parker turned around to face him, greeting the mastermind with a grin that made him stop in his tracks. Neither of them had informed the team about the good news yet.

"Look, Nate!" she said proudly. "I can use my hands again. Almost can eat on my own. Well, still need a little help of course, and the milk's all over me. But at least I can hold the spoon."

It didn't happen often that Nate was speechless, and Eliot had to admit it was amusing to see the man like that. He needed a moment to process those news, and hesitantly made eye contact with Eliot, who offered a confirming nod. Only then, he smiled in response.

"That's fantastic news, Parker," he said, joining them at the table. "How did that happen?"

The question didn't come as a surprise for Eliot, but Parker hadn't been prepared for it. Slightly embarrassed, she turned to look at him for support, and willingly, he jumped in.

"We had a little argument yesterday, and obviously that unblocked something for her," he explained. "She could suddenly clench her hands into fists again. We trained that a bit, and turns out she's getting better and better already."

Nate nodded impressed. Eliot didn't miss how the other man's expression changed. He instantly noticed the warmth that appeared in Nate's eyes as he gazed at Parker, almost looking like a proud father.

"Absolutely fantastic," he repeated. "You guys should come over, Sophie and Hardison should arrive soon. They'll be happy to hear those good news as well." With a wink, he added, "Of course after finishing breakfast."

Parker nodded in agreement, before demanding to continue. Willingly, Eliot supported her with eating breakfast, secretly watching Nate as he did so. The man had changed a lot since they had met for the first time, and seemed to be doing so once again. He was no longer drinking, and didn't even seem to mind. Instead, his attention had focused on the team, and her in particular, which was another proof for the fact that said team had turned into a family a long time ago.


	7. Chapter 7

**Title:** Trapped  
**Summary:** Sometimes, accepting love and support is the first step into the right direction.  
**Characters:** Parker, Eliot, Nate, Sophie, Hardison  
**Pairings:** Eliot/Parker, with Nate/Sophie  
**Rating:** R  
**Disclaimer:** I DON'T own anyone or anything. I DON'T own the characters. The fanfic is written for fun, NOT for profit.  
**Author's note:** Thank you for the sweet reviews again! :D And, like always, thanks to the lovely akblake, who keeps on giving me ideas and inspiring me!

* * *

When Parker had realised that she could use her hands again, she hadn't even considered telling the others as well. She and Eliot had spent the evening with training her fingers, trying to figure out how much she could do with them already. Then she had learnt how to use the joystick of her wheelchair.

Excitement: this feeling had kept her busy and focused, and almost had made her forget about the others. Only when Nate had shown up, and she had proudly announced that she could use her hands again, she had realised that maybe, the others might want to know about those great news, too.

And so, she had willingly agreed to go over to Nate's and meet them, to show what she could do. Being the center of everyone's attention again though hadn't been anything to look forward to. Being in the spotlight, attracting attention, had never seemed to be a good idea in her opinion.

But those were her friends. Some kind of family even. She knew they had been worried, had dearly hoped that soon, she would make some progresses, would be able to get better. They had invested so much energy into her already. Of course they deserved to celebrate.

And they had celebrated. Seeing the others excited as well had made her feel surprisingly good. Only then, she had realised how much pressure every single team member was dealing with: it wasn't just her who was affected by her current situation.

Eventually, she had managed to get over the first rush of awkwardness and hesitation. Seated on Nate's living room couch, she listened to her friends as they moved around the apartment, preparing whatever it was they wanted to do to celebrate that yes, she could use her hands again. What fantastic news!

With a smile, Parker gazed down at them. Never before, she would have dared to imagine that seeing them resting in her lap like that, completely relaxed, could be such a beautiful sight. Her hands had been so stiff since she had woken up a week ago. They hadn't seemed to be hers anymore.

Her smile widened as she clenched one hands, and stretched the fingers of the other one. Eliot kept on telling her that she had to be patient, that a lot of hard physical therapy would be ahead if she really wanted to use her arms properly again, and maybe one day her legs as well. So far, those didn't want to cooperate at all, but at the moment, she couldn't have cared less.

One step after the other. She had gotten her hands back, and Parker was determined to appreciate that, rather than asking for more right away.

So lost in her thoughts, Hardison almost startled her as he appeared by her side and joined her on the living room couch. Once again, like so many times before during the past week, she could feel the hesitation, radiating from him. There was no way to deny that she was getting better and better at reading people, at sensing their feelings, but there were moments where she wished she could return to her old, oblivious self. Awkwardness was not a feeling she enjoyed.

"Hey," he said.

"Hey." Parker tried to smile, unsure whether or not that might encourage him maybe. Hardison stared at her for a moment, then at the coffee table, before he sighed eventually.

"Listen, Parker," he started, trying to make eye contact again. "See, I know I've not exactly been of much help so far, been acting all weird and such. That's...that's not 'cause I don't wanna...be around you, or have a problem with this, you know? It's just 'cause...I didn't wanna make it worse for you with...well, talking about it. Didn't really know what to do to make you feel better, so I felt all weird and hesitant, and didn't know what to do at all. I'm sorry if that made you feel uncomfortable. That was not my intention at all. I just...wish I had known what to do to cheer you up, make you feel better. Was quite obvious that you were having a hard time, and I wanna cheer you up, make you smile again." He sighed again. "I'm not making any sense, huh?"

This time, Parker managed to offer a true smile in response. Watching Hardison ramble was adorable, and also relieved her in some way. She wasn't the only one who was overwhelmed with some situations: it could happen to the others as well. He had wanted to make her feel better, had wanted to cheer her up so badly that he had reached a point where he had been incapable of doing anything.

"You're making sense to me," she assured him. "And it's okay, Hardison. You didn't make me feel uncomfortable. Doubt anyone could have." She shivered slightly as she mentally replayed the past few days. "I was already feeling horrible, 'cause I wasn't just overwhelmed by that whole situation. I also...well, I thought I had kinda lost myself. You know, I'm a thief, and I was used to controlling my body. If I wanted to get a job done, I would depend on my body, and on being able to control it. But then, suddenly I wake up and I'm not in control anymore at all. And I don't know why, and what to do against it. I felt like...now that I can't be a thief anymore, at least for a while, I was not myself anymore. At all. Like I was...nothing."

"That's not true!" Hardison's eyes widened at her words. "You're not just a thief, you know? You're more than that. I mean, look at you! You're a sweet, funny and very smart woman." He paused. "You do know we love you even if you can't go 'round, stealing and stuff?"

Parker's smile widened. "You're not the first one saying that. Eliot keeps on repeating it, too. It's just not so easy, you know? To try and see something else in yourself than what you've been all the time. I've always been just a thief. Guess I need a while to learn that there might be more."

"Ah, don't you worry about that." Hardison mirrored her smile, and for the first time in a week, it didn't look faked at all. "That's what you got the family for. We're gonna make sure you'll learn what a loveable person you are."

With those words, he leant in and closed his arms around her in a tight embrace before he got up. She felt another rush of relief as she watched him joining the others in the kitchen again. The team would handle this challenge together: they kept on repeating that over and over again, and by now, she was almost convinced they were right.

* * *

Eliot couldn't deny there had been a time when he had wondered if taking Parker home had been a good idea. Back then, they hadn't even known when she would wake up, and he still didn't entirely understand how Nate had convinced the doctors to release the little thief from the hospital in the first place.

Would they be able to give her the treatment she needed? The doctors had been hesitant, hadn't figured out what to do with her, and had just fed his theory that a mental blockade was probably preventing her from getting better. They could have send her to various specialists, who would have most likely been unsuccessful as well.

Apart from that, all of them had been convinced that Parker wouldn't want to be treated by anyone else but them in the first place. And so, Eliot had agreed to move in across of Nate's apartment with her, to try what he could and take care of her while the others would jump in and offer support as well.

The first week had turned out to be as complicated as he had expected. By now, he was trying his best to push those days out of his mind and not think about them any further. Fortunately, the moment she had arrived at the bottom, she had made first progresses, which finally had motivated her.

He knew very well that she would have to face rough times again, and he hoped he would be able to pull her out of the holes she would most likely fall into. The first step had been made though, and by now, he believed as well that their treatment would be the best for her.

Eliot was up for an hour already as he eventually headed for Parker's bedroom. She had seemed to be sleepier than usual the evening before, and as she hadn't bothered to call for him yet, he had decided to let her sleep in a little longer.

The moment he entered the room though, he knew why she hadn't called for him yet. She was awake already, lying on her back, staring towards the ceiling with an expression that made him feel uncomfortable instantly. Something had upset her, and immediately, mental images of the past week pushed their way back into his mind.

"Are you okay, Parker?" he asked, not bothering to waste time with unnecessary small talk. Sitting on the edge of her bed, he watched her closely. Instinctively, his eyes darted to her hands. Much to his relief, they didn't look stiff again. Instead, she had clenched them into tight fists.

"No," Parker answered between gritted teeth. Finally making eye contact, she pressed, "I'm in pain. My arms...it's like there are needles in there everywhere!" Squeezing her eyes shut, she released a quiet groan, emphasizing her words with that. "I want it to stop! I...I'd rather want to feel nothing again than this!"

"Really?" Eliot asked back, shaking his head at her. "You'd rather stop using your hands again in exchange of getting rid of that pain?"

"You don't know what it's like!" she hissed.

"No, I don't know what pain's like at all." He rolled his eyes at her words. At her angry glare, he sighed. "Listen, Parker. I'm sorry. Don't think I'm being insensitive here. I know the pain's bad, but don't tell yourself you'd rather stop feeling at all. I know that doesn't help much, but it's showing that your body's working on this."

"Didn't you and Nate say it's just phantom pain?" she snapped.

"We weren't sure," he admitted.

Parker groaned again. "Give me painkillers already! Make it stop!" At the look he gave her in response, she added, "Goodness, I just want the pain to stop, okay?!"

"I know something else that might help as well." Moving closer, Eliot ignored the glare she gave him. Now that he was in control over her medication, there was no chance for her to take more than allowed again. Still he wanted to limit the amount of pills she had to take to a minimum.

"And what might that be?" she hissed back.

Calmly, not bothered to argue with her as he knew it would only rile her up even more, Eliot picked up her right arm. Carefully, he placed it across his lap before he turned to look at her again. "I'm going to massage you. That might ease the pain. If it doesn't, you can still take the painkillers. But this might work better."

Eliot could see Parker wanted to argue with him, kept her mouth shut though, lips firmly pressed together. Before she could change her mind, he started. Gently, he worked on her hand first, before he allowed his fingers to take care of the aching muscles in her arm. She winced a few times, but didn't say a word in complaint, so he kept going. The muscles responded to his ministration, much to his satisfaction, and after a while, he could feel how she started to relax again.

Until he hit a wrong nerve. Her hand responded to it, connecting hard with his jaw. Shocked by the unexpected hit, he almost let go of her arm. She looked up at him with a matching shocked expression.

"Dammit, Parker!" he cursed, rubbing his aching jaw as he stared back in disbelief. "What the hell was that?!"

"That wasn't on purpose!" she defended herself instantly. He didn't miss the hint of a smirk that was tearing at the corners of her mouth though. "You touched something in my arm, and it just happened. I wasn't even in control over it!"

With a frustrated growl, he offered a glare of his own. Eliot knew very well that she was saying the truth. Touching the wrong muscles or nerve could result in a reflexive reaction like that. There was nothing wrong with that. In fact, he would even go so far and say it was a good sign that she was slowly getting back to using her arms fully. Still, that didn't change he was embarrassed by the situation itself, not having expected to be punched by her, and disliking his shocked reaction to it.

"You believe me, don't you?" Parker asked then. "I might be crazy, but I'm not stupid enough to hit you on purpose."

"Yeah, yeah." He growled again, wishing she would stop looking at him like that. "You think that's funny, huh?"

"Maybe a little," Parker admitted, unable to resist the urge to chuckle this time. "Imagine what the others will say!" She paused. "Of course I can keep it to myself if it's too embarrassing for you."

"Stop teasing," Eliot told her firmly, but that only made her grin even more.

"Want me to kiss it better?" Parker asked, pointing at his jaw with her index finger.

"What if I said yes to that, huh?" Eliot asked back, now with a slight smirk of his own.

She chuckled again. "Who knows?" In surprise, he noticed how her cheeks flushed softly as she looked away. "Can you continue now? It's really working."

"Told you so," he answered.

And with those words, Eliot returned to his massage. Once again, he could feel how Parker relaxed. Her cheeks stayed flushed though, which looked adorable, he had to admit. He couldn't deny he understood why she was amused. And seeing her smile was worth it, too.


	8. Chapter 8

**Title:** Trapped  
**Summary:** Sometimes, accepting love and support is the first step into the right direction.  
**Characters:** Parker, Eliot, Nate, Sophie, Hardison  
**Pairings:** Eliot/Parker, with Nate/Sophie  
**Rating:** R  
**Disclaimer:** I DON'T own anyone or anything. I DON'T own the characters. The fanfic is written for fun, NOT for profit.  
**Author's note:** And again, I'd like to thank my lovely akblake, who gave me the idea for this chapter, and also for all the discussing and support! Thanks also for the lovely reviews for the previous chapter! :D

* * *

That her recovery wouldn't be just exhausting but painful as well wasn't exactly something Parker was fond of. Eliot's massages did a great job with easing her pain though, and after a while, she agreed with him that painkillers weren't necessary. She didn't know how he did it, or how he had learnt it in the first place, but his fingers seemed to perform magic on her aching muscles.

It also appeared that he was right: the pain in her arms seemed to be a good sign. Slowly, ever so slowly, she was regaining the ability to use them as well. She was making slow progresses, but even baby steps were okay as long as she knew she kept on moving forward. A lot of exercising was required, but she was determined.

Determination had always counted to one of her strengths, and she was glad that after hitting the bottom, she was finally able to fight again. Of course, the pain was frustrating, the exercises were exhausting, but the results she could see almost on a daily basis were worth the effort.

Regaining the ability to use her arms also brought a lot of advantages with it. No longer, she depended entirely on the others: she was able to get in and out of the wheelchair, could eat on her own, was even able to use the toilet and shower all by herself.

She didn't feel helpless anymore, and while Parker was trying her best to accept that Eliot and the others just wanted to support her, and didn't believe she was weak, she was grateful for every bit of independence.

But even after a month, she still wasn't feeling entirely comfortable with her current situation. Parker had accepted that she had to be patient: one step after the other had to be made, and sooner or later, she might be back on her feet, might even be able to use her body the way she had done in the past. There was a true chance that she could be the world's best thief again, if she didn't pressure herself too much, but still kept on working hard for it.

That didn't change that having so much attention focused on her was a strange experience. She had sighed in relief when Nate had announced that the team would finally take on new jobs, as they hadn't done so in months, believing she would be okay if left on her own for a couple of hours. She resisted the urge to tell him that she was looking forward to those breaks, meaning that she wouldn't have anyone around her who would constantly watch every single of her actions.

She didn't need supervising after all. Parker understood why Eliot was still hiding medicine from her, and was in control over every single pill she had to take. She had gotten used to him, and to the support he had to offer: usually, he wouldn't make a big deal out of it, would simply help her with whatever she couldn't do on her own yet, but would also allow her to try on her own first.

Unlike the others. Parker knew they cared, and wanted to do whatever they could to make her feel as comfortable as possible. In her opinion, that made them appear too over-motivated at times though, which stressed her out, even embarrassed her in some cases. She wanted to learn, wanted to try before someone would jump in and take a task from her.

Sharing those thoughts and feelings with them was no option though. They wanted to be nice, and the simple idea of asking them to stop already made her feel guilty. Parker was grateful for the knowledge that for once, she wasn't left alone and could count on this odd, little family. Slowly, ever so slowly, she also realised that Eliot was right: everyone saw more than just a talented thief in her. She was a friend, an accepted part of said family. Never before, she had belonged somewhere, and she didn't want to seem ungrateful with asking the others to back off.

It was a rainy day as Parker wheeled over to the large living room window and gazed outside. Heavy raindrops were drumming against the glass, leaving long, wavy lines on it. In silence, she watched the drops as they hit the surface, followed their trail downwards until they disappeared in a puddle, forming on the window sill. The steady sound had a relaxing effect on her. She loved rain. Parker didn't necessarily enjoy being surprised by it. Listening to the sound, taking in its smell though was quite alluring, she had to admit.

Heavy clouds were covering the sky, hiding the sun, which couldn't highlight the beautiful, multi-coloured leaves of the trees outside. Fall was an odd season. The colours were beautiful, the colder temperatures not so much. Rain and wind didn't exactly make her job easier: she had learnt that the hard way. Shuddering slightly, she tried to push the rising memories out of her mind. By now, she could remember exactly what had happened on that day months ago, and she didn't like those mental images at all. Rappelling had counted to her favourite hobbies. Never, she would have believed that one day, she would be slammed into a building so hard that it would cause such damage to her, although she knew by now that not everything she had to deal with right now was necessarily caused by this experience.

Allowing her thoughts to wander a little further, Parker caught herself wondering what she had to do to get rid of her blockade completely. Something had changed when she and Eliot had argued, when she had blurted out what had been bothering her so much during the first week after waking up. What could she do to make this happen again? What exactly was holding her back?

The sound of the front door being opened and closed again interrupted her thoughts. She spun around, as good as she could, staring at her unexpected visitor with huge eyes. Hardison, realising he had startled her, stopped in his tracks, almost instantly looking guilty.

"Hey mama, didn't mean to scare you," he apologized.

"Nah, it's fine." Unwilling to see him worried like that, she firmly shook her head. Hardison still tried to treat her the sweetest and most careful of them all, and she dearly wished she could finally convince him that she was okay. More or less. He didn't have to walk on eggshells around her.

"Anything you want?" she asked, before he got a chance to apologize again. Only then, she noticed that he hadn't come alone. Parker's eyebrows raised in surprise as she stared at the two canvases he was carrying, along with a huge basket, filled with colourful tubes of paint.

"The others are all out and busy," he said. "So I thought you might be a little bored, and wondered what we could do. I do know that even if you don't make fun of me as much as Eliot does, you're not exactly into my games either, so I thought we could try something else instead."

"You wanna...paint with me?" Her eyes widened in disbelief.

"Um...yeah." Hesitating, Hardison rubbed the back of his neck, like he always did when he was nervous. "Don't get me wrong, okay? I'm not gonna try to be all overly helpful again or something. You know, thinking you need distraction and all."

Biting her bottom lip, Parker tried not to laugh at his words, along with his facial expression. She definitely wasn't the only member of this team, who had problems with interacting with others at times. He knew very well that too much attention was bothering her, yet he couldn't really help himself, which would eventually make him feel guilty. His struggles were entertaining to watch, she had to admit.

"Anyway," he continued then. "They say painting is good for the soul, and as you can use your arms quite well now...well, I thought it'd be fun to give it a try." He paused. "If you like of course. Not that you think you have to, and if you think that..."

"Hardison," she interrupted him, smiling amused at his rambling. "May I say something as well?" At his nod, she continued, "It's a nice idea. Let's give it a try. Surely more entertaining than watching the rain." This time, she couldn't resist a chuckle at the broad smile of relief that lit his face.

And few hours later, every dark thought she might have had earlier had completely disappeared. Parker couldn't deny she had been convinced that painting could really be a fun activity. Until they had started. Hardison had made clear right from the start that whatever they did had nothing to do with perfection. He had come over so she could have some fun. Whatever she decided to do with her canvas and the paint was okay.

Eventually, both of their canvases were covered in thick layers of wild colours. So were the both of them. Joking, laughing about each other's attempts at creating pieces of art, they had eventually started to fling the paint at each other, riling each other up more and more until the entire living room looked like a huge mess.

By that time, Parker's belly muscles were aching, her throat was sore, but still she couldn't stop laughing. Hardison looked a lot worse than her, but hadn't seemed to be so relaxed and happy in a long time. He was perfectly mirroring her own mood, so she believed, and a new rush of joy filled her at the realisation of how good simply laughing about something silly could make her feel.

"There's still an empty spot in your face that asks to be painted," she teased.

"Oh, uh-uh. No. No, Parker! Not the face again!" Hardison sighed dramatically as she wheeled closer, lifting the paintbrush shakily, and clumsily drew its soft end across his cheek. She giggled at the long, deep purple line she had created, right below his eye.

"Really, Parker?" he asked, playfully rolling his eyes at her. "Pink? You kidding me?"

She laughed heartily. "That's what you complain about? You gotta be trusting in me a lot if you weren't worried a second I could poke you in the eye! I mean, I can use my arms, but you see how shaky they are. Look at that damn painting." She giggled again. Indeed, most of what she had managed to paint on her canvas had happened by coincidence. She could hold the paintbrush, lift her arm and move it around, but wasn't entirely in control over it yet.

"That's what you do in a family, mama," he told her, his smile softening a little. "You gotta trust in each other. 's necessary, if you ask me. Knew you wouldn't poke my eye."

Parker returned his smile. "Thank you," she said quietly. "For this here, but also for what you just said." Another tiny chuckle escaped her. "See, you're good at being there for me. No need to be all awkward."

To her amusement, he looked almost embarrassed at her words. Before Hardison could reply though, the front door announced the return of another teammate. As she turned around, her smile widened at the sight of Eliot. Making his way into the living room, he took in the created mess in disbelief before he looked up.

"Do I even want to know what's been going on in here?" he asked after endlessly moments of silence.

"Um...listen, man...I wasn't gonna leave it like that, you know?" Hardison quickly defended himself. "See, just wanted to entertain Parker a bit, but guess it got a little out of hand. I'll clean that all up, promise! You'll get that shiny, overly clean apartment of yours back."

"Yeah, just not thanks to your cleaning skills." Narrowing his eyes at the man, Eliot added, "Nate needs you next door, going through some stuff for a new job. Means that whole cleaning shit will be all my job. Lucky you, huh?"

"Oh." Hardison offered an apologizing smile. "Um...then I owe you, man. I owe you." He threw another bright smile in Parker's direction, adding, "I'm glad you had fun with this. We can absolutely do it again if you like." Then he jumped up and hurried out of the apartment before Eliot could change his mind.

"Don't be mad at Hardison," Parker said as he let his eyes wander across the canvases, still breathless from laughing so much. "The last few hours...I didn't think about the pain or the paralysis or that blockade in my mind at all. I was just messing around with the paint and with him, and I felt so good. I laughed so much! Almost forgot what it's like to laugh." She could feel her cheeks reddening as he turned to look at her. "Sounds silly, I know. But really, I forgot how good it makes you feel to laugh."

"Of course it does." The warm smile he offered in response increased her joy. "You should laugh more often again." He paused, and to her surprise, he seemed to be unsure on what to say next. He looked away for a moment, but she had already caught the thoughtful expression in his eyes. Before she could ask what he was thinking about though, his attention turned back to her.

"You're in need of a shower I'd say," he stated. "You need help with that?"

"Oh, nah." Parker shook her head. "I'm quite good at showering on my own by now." She nodded towards the messed up floor. "I can help you with that later if you want."

"I think you'll be busy enough with getting all the paint off of you," Eliot answered. "Enjoy your shower."

And there it was again. The glance, along with the hint of a warm smile. It caused a new, quite strange sensation deep within her, which didn't disappear even when she had already made her way into the bathroom. She didn't bother to analyse it any further though. Instead, she was determined to laugh more often from now on.

* * *

The apartment was a mess. Fortunately, Hardison had chosen a kind of paint that didn't refuse to go off of whatever surfaces he and Parker had coloured with it. Sitting on the floor with a bucket full of water and a rag, he tried to wash it off the wooden floor, without paying much attention to it though.

The sight of the mess had been an unpleasant surprise, and for a moment, he had felt an all too familiar anger building deep within him. Until he had made eye contact with Parker. The expression in her eyes, along with her bright smile, had instantly made him forget all potential frustration.

She had looked hilarious, covered in colourful paint. But he couldn't have cared less for that. She was laughing again, and he had missed that, more than he would have ever dared to imagine. She was happy. Just happy. How much he had wanted to see her carefree like that again.

Parker was determined, and Eliot was amazed by that. She wanted to learn, wanted to keep on training, despite the pain and exhaustion caused by it. She was happier since she was able to use her hands again. She was motivated, even excited.

But she was never carefree. Her mind would always be focused on something: either on whatever thought had found its way into her mind or on training her arms and hands.

Now, after weeks of being hesitant, awkwardly trying to figure out how to treat her best, Hardison had come up with an idea that made her forget, that allowed her to laugh in this hearty, beautiful way all of them loved so much. Who cared for a messed up apartment if the actions that had led to it had made her feel so good?

Shaking his head at himself, Eliot chuckled, in a mix of amusement and surprise. He could clearly remember how he had wondered if he was able to work with a team. He could also still remember how often he had already been annoyed by her, especially in the beginning. But now, he was allowed to see a whole new side of Parker, and was learning to treasure a lot of those little details he hadn't even noticed before. Only now, he realised how much he truly cared, and said realisation would keep his mind busy for a while.


	9. Chapter 9

**Title:** Trapped  
**Summary:** Sometimes, accepting love and support is the first step into the right direction.  
**Characters:** Parker, Eliot, Nate, Sophie, Hardison  
**Pairings:** Eliot/Parker, with Nate/Sophie  
**Rating:** R  
**Disclaimer:** I DON'T own anyone or anything. I DON'T own the characters. The fanfic is written for fun, NOT for profit.  
**Author's note:** Huge hugs to everyone for the lovely reviews! :D

* * *

Restlessly, he made his way into the kitchen, still partly trapped in the nightmare that had waken him up from a deep slumber. His mind was clear, he knew exactly what he was doing. He always did. A long time ago, he had learnt to be awake within a matter of seconds, in case an enemy was threatening to attack.

But that didn't change that Eliot couldn't brush a nightmare off without any further effort. He was used to some of those, as they came to haunt him almost every night. Others though were too rough, too detailed and too real to just be pushed aside. He couldn't roll over and pretend those images didn't exist.

Sometimes, Eliot envied those who could shove their memories into some deep, dark corner of their mind where they would eventually be forgotten. He could handle those memories during the day. He knew he would never forget, and had arranged himself with this fact.

Nights were a different story though. He didn't sleep much in the first place, and having those few hours interrupted by paralysing feelings like fear, panic and guilt didn't exactly help with getting himself the rest he needed, especially after a hard job.

No matter how many years had passed, he would still wake up with a racing heart, sweating and frightened. And every single night, he would wonder: which story of the past would come back to haunt him this time?

He emptied his first glass of water in the kitchen before he filled himself another one and headed for the living room couch. Going back to sleep was no option, at least not right now.

Closing his eyes, he rested his head back against the couch, taking a deep breath in yet another attempt to get back in control over his mind. For a brief moment, the idea of going for a run seemed tempting, but that wasn't a real option either. Leaving Parker alone during the night was not a good idea in his opinion.

Since the day she had woken up, she had only needed his comfort once, right during her first night. After that, her nights seemed to have been rather calm, much to his relief. Concentrating on her healing process was difficult enough. Constantly having one's sleep interrupted wasn't helpful at all.

But despite the fact she had never called for help, he tended to check on her various times during the night, to see if she was okay. He wasn't sure whether or not she was aware of that, and if she minded the way he was supervising her, but he didn't care either. She was dealing with an extreme situation, and he wanted her to be aware of the fact that she wasn't alone with it. Never. Not even for a single second.

No, leaving her alone at night was no option. He would have to find another way to distract himself, whatever that might be. Mentally, he shook his head at himself. A lot had changed since he had joined the team, and even more during the past couple of months. Only now, he realised how different his daily routine had become. Only recently, they had started taking jobs again. He couldn't remember when he had dated for the last time, or even had had the time to offer an appreciating look for a woman.

Somewhere along the line, taking care of Parker had turned into his main priority, and had shoved everything else aside. To his own surprise, he didn't mind though. He hadn't forgotten the cold fear he had experienced when he had seen her dangling off the office building, unconscious and badly injured. He hadn't forgotten how often he had prayed for her to wake up during the months that had followed, how many hours he had sat by Parker's side, holding her hand, talking to her, promising that one day, she would be fine again.

She was awake. She was fine, more of less. And she was making progresses. Seeing that relieved him in a way that was entirely new to him. Going out, dating, having a drink at a bar suddenly seemed to be the furthest ideas from his mind. His priorities had changed, and he knew that analysing them was a waste of time. He had changed so many times already. The innocent boy had gotten blood on his clean hands. The soldier had turned into a killer. The killer eventually had woken up and decided to take a different route before he could fallen even deeper into that dark hole. He had learnt to use his skills to help people who couldn't help themselves. Who said that he couldn't move on from other old habits in exchange for caring for a person, who depended on him more than she would ever be willing to admit?

Parker had to learn that she was more than just a thief. Meanwhile, maybe he had to accept that he did care for this team, especially for the annoying, crazy and sweet little blonde woman. He had become a solid part of this family a long time ago, and it was about time to move on from his lone wolf attitude and accept the facts. Changing didn't necessarily mean one was losing themselves.

So lost in his thoughts, Eliot didn't hear Parker until she had already wheeled halfway through the living room. Startled by the cough with which she announced her presence, he spun around.

"Parker," he gasped in surprise, slightly shocked by the fact that she had managed to get so close to him, completely unnoticed. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." She made her way over to the living room couch. Still taken aback by her unexpected appearance, he watched as she narrowed her eyes in concentration. His fingers itched to help her as she carefully, inch by inch, lifted herself out of the wheelchair and onto the couch. He knew she hated help in situations like that though, desperately wanting to become more and more independent again. And indeed, she succeeded, releasing a deep, satisfied sigh as she made herself comfortable next to him.

As she eventually looked up to meet his gaze, she asked, "Actually, I wanted to ask if you're okay."

"Me?" Eliot asked back, with a confused look in response. "Why?"

Parker shrugged. "'Cause I heard how you got up and moved around in here. The lights stayed on, too, so you obviously didn't go back to bed. You were tired earlier though, so I was wondering why you wouldn't want to sleep some more."

He could only shake his head in return. It wasn't the first time for him to wonder when exactly she had gotten so observant. Then again, she had surprised the team with such accurate comments quite often in the past, and more than once, he had wondered how naïve and crazy she really was.

"I'm fine, don't worry," he answered eventually. "You can go back to bed. It's okay."

Parker's expression made clear that she wasn't going to do that though. "Did you have a nightmare?" she wanted to know.

"What makes you think that?"

She rolled her eyes at him. "It's rude to keep on answering questions with questions!"

Eliot sighed. "Fine, but what makes you think I had one? I already told you all I don't need much sleep, didn't I?"

"Yeah, but you looked into a mirror already?" She smiled, an almost pitiful smile that made him cringe. "That look in your eyes...looks like something's been haunting you. You also look a little rough, and like you've been sweating. I know the signs of a nightmare, you know? 'Cause I'm having them myself. Quite nasty what you get to see in your dreams sometimes, right? As if it isn't bad enough you had to see that stuff in the first place. No one wants to be reminded of it in their sleep."

He didn't know what to reply to that. In silence, he stared back at the young woman, sitting next to him, studying him closely. His nightmares weren't a topic he had discussed with the others yet, and he didn't feel the urge to change that now. He also knew Parker wouldn't back off either. For a second, he played with the idea of simply carrying her back into her room, but he knew her good enough to be aware of the fact that she wouldn't just be offended by that, she would also find a way to escape and stalk him again.

"I'm fine," he repeated instead. "I'm having those a lot. There's nothing new here. Now why don't we get you back to bed? Your body needs the sleep, Parker."

"So does yours." No longer, she looked like she was pitying him, but still the smile she offered made him nervous. She stared back for an endlessly long minute until she lifted an arm and shakily wrapped it around his shoulders. Clumsily patting his thigh with her other hand, she added, "I know what nightmares are like, and that they can scare you pretty badly sometimes. See...you keep on helping me all the time, and you know how hard it is for me to accept that. But you keep on saying it doesn't make me weak, and that it's perfectly okay."

Even if he had wanted to, Eliot couldn't tear his eyes away from hers. Her gaze almost seemed to be hypnotizing, focused on him like that. "One thing has nothing to do with the other," he stated.

"Of course!" She glared mildly. "You're helping me all the time, and I want to give something back."

"You don't have to."

"But I want to!"

"Parker!" He groaned. "Dammit, can you stop being that stubborn for once? I'm used to those nightmares, and I'm fine. I don't need help or comfort, or anything else."

"No?" This time, she looked angry, didn't back off though. "Now who's the stubborn one here? I had to accept that I couldn't do anything on my own, that you even had to help me with using the damn toilet! You have any idea what that's like?! But you're ashamed because of an idiotic nightmare? And stop this silly 'I'm fine' crap. If you were fine, you wouldn't be up and running around here, sitting on the couch in the middle of the night. You'd be in bed and sleeping again. But will you admit that? No, because crazy, stupid Parker will be fooled by you saying 'I'm fine, just go back to sleep, I'm used to it', as if I had no idea that you can't get used to some of those nightmares."

She was seething at this point, and he couldn't even blame her, although Eliot had to admit her outburst had surprised him. He hadn't bothered to see the situation from her point of view yet. Of course he had been aware of the fact that all the help she had needed in the beginning had embarrassed her. Sophie had volunteered to help her in some situations, but that hadn't changed much. She had felt helpless, and he could understand why she was so eager to get her independence back now.

He couldn't deny he disliked the fact that she was right though. He had asked her so many times to accept help and comfort, and that there was absolutely nothing wrong with it. Yet he was incapable of listening to his own advice.

"I didn't say you're stupid, and I didn't mean to fool you either," Eliot told her then, not wanting to rile her up even more with further arguments. "I just..." He groaned in frustration, more with himself than with the actual situation. "You gotta understand me as well though. It's easy to tell someone that they should accept help. Doing so yourself is a whole different story." He rolled his eyes as she grinned in response. "What's that for?"

"You just admitted that you're not listening to your own words, although you should," Parker said. "Not many people are able to be that honest."

"It's not like any other answer would have made you shut up," he answered, making her giggle. Returning her smile, he continued, "You do know you really don't have to give anything back, right?"

Parker nodded. "That's not why I'm doing it. First of all, I do wanna help you. Distract you a little, comfort you or whatever else you do. But I also..." She hesitated, her cheeks flushing softly. "Well, it's easier for me when I see that...others might also be in need of support here and there. And that I'm able to offer it."

Embarrassed by her own honesty, she stared at her hands, resting in her lap. Eliot couldn't deny he hadn't expected such a confession. It made sense to him though. Everyone was constantly trying to be there, right by her side, willing to help. Always being in need of something but never being able to be the one the others could lean on for support couldn't be an enjoyable experience. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath. He had promised to do whatever he could to make her feel better, to help her with this challenge. Carrying her from one place to the others and helping with physical therapy was easy. But he knew very well that the uncomfortable parts of the job had to be accepted by him as well.

"And how are we gonna do this?" he said then. At her surprised look, he added, "You want me to tell you what that nightmare was about? Doubt you'll really be able to go back to sleep then though."

She smiled brightly in response. "Oh, don't worry about that. You'd be surprised by how many bad things I've seen. Listening to some more...doubt that'll really keep me restless at nights. So feel free to share." Pausing then, she tilted her head to the side and added, "You're...doing this to help me again, right? Not because you really want my support. And don't lie. 'Cause that'd be unfair."

"Fine." Eliot sighed again. "Yeah, I don't want you to feel like you're always the one accepting help and never being able to give something back. But who knows, talking about it actually might be a good idea? It's not like I was planning to go back to bed for a while. And I doubt I can make you go back to sleep either."

"That's 'cause you're not the only one with the right to be stubborn." Parker grinned satisfied. "And I think telling me about it would be a good start. So what was it about?"

Eliot studied her for another moment before he started to talk, and, watching him closely, Parker listened, without interrupting him. And for once, so he had to admit, it seemed like they were offering an equal amount of support.


	10. Chapter 10

**Title:** Trapped  
**Summary:** Sometimes, accepting love and support is the first step into the right direction.  
**Characters:** Parker, Eliot, Nate, Sophie, Hardison  
**Pairings:** Eliot/Parker, with Nate/Sophie  
**Rating:** R  
**Disclaimer:** I DON'T own anyone or anything. I DON'T own the characters. The fanfic is written for fun, NOT for profit.  
**Author's note:** Big hugs and thanks to akblake for her friendship, for the ideas and inspiration! And thanks also for the sweet reviews again! :D

* * *

While Parker was adjusting to her current situation better and better, she couldn't deny a slight impatience, caused by the fact that while she could use her arms, her legs didn't seem to make any progresses yet. She was grateful for the fact that she had gained a huge amount of independence back, despite the fact that her grip was still weak, that her arms didn't move the way they were supposed to at times.

But she could use them, could do a lot of activities on her own thanks to this fact. Still, the wish to get up, to be walking again was getting stronger and stronger with every passing day. She wanted to get out of her wheelchair, wanted to walk from one spot to the other, rather than having to wheel her way over to it.

So far, she hadn't figure out how to reached this point though. Whenever she would touch her legs, she would only feel a soft, dull sensation. They wouldn't move at all, including her toes, no matter how hard she was trying. She knew she had to be patient, but with the time, that was getting harder and harder.

Parker knew that Eliot wasn't pleased by her behaviour. She was supposed to give herself time, because in his opinion, her harsh attitude towards her body was one reason that might have caused her mental blockade. She was supposed to stop pushing herself to her limits.

Whenever he told her so, she couldn't help but roll her eyes at him. But she knew by now that giving advice and listening to one's own words were two entirely different stories. She also knew he was right, but she couldn't help herself.

She wanted to be her old self again. She missed all those familiar activities. Running, sneaking and rappelling had been her daily business, and she wished to figure out how to get back said old self.

Unfortunately, the team was still watching out for her. Eliot had noticed her mood changes immediately. So had Nate, and despite what she was told, Parker still wondered if maybe, the man was indeed able to read minds. Sophie and Hardison had quickly picked up on it, too, and this time, it had been the grifter who had volunteered to distract her.

"Did you get that from my warehouse?" Parker asked surprised as she studied all the items her friend had placed on Nate's dining table. She hadn't seen her sparkly loot in what felt like eternity, and to her utter surprised, she hadn't missed it either.

"Yes." Sophie nodded. "I thought you might like to see it again, and as no one has been to your place for a while, maybe we could clean them a little."

"Oh." Parker offered a hesitant smile. "Okay..."

Sophie's smile softened at her confusion. "You're constantly training your hands, and I thought maybe you'd like to do something different for once. Wouldn't it be nice to combine the necessary with something you like?"

"Sure." Parker shrugged, still not entirely sure she fully understood Sophie's plan. With a slightly shaking hand, she accepted the handkerchief her friend offered, along with a small golden statue. Sophie picked up another one for herself and joined in. The women cleaned the loot in silence for a while until Parker could feel her friend's attention resting on her again. Feeling an all too familiar nervousness rising, she didn't look up though, knowing that sooner or later, Sophie would break the silence.

She didn't have to wait long. "Hardison told me that you've felt like you lost yourself," Sophie said, in a voice Parker knew only too well. The older woman often seemed to believe that it was her job to take care of the others, to listen and offer support. She had her very own way of talking to people in such situations, with a soft, calm and understanding voice. It made her nervous, Parker had to admit, and at the same time made it impossible for her not to respond. How exactly her friend was able to do that was still a mystery to her.

"He did?" she asked back, only briefly looking up. Parker knew Hardison had wanted to help. But she hadn't shared her thoughts with him because she had wanted him to run to Sophie with them. Mentally, she cringed. It was bad enough the others had seen her weak and helpless. She didn't want them to be aware of the state of her mind as well.

Accepting help was difficult enough. For a moment, her thoughts drifted off as she remembered an incident from a few nights ago. Eliot had been more than hesitant to talk about his nightmares, yet had done so eventually. Even though she hadn't been entirely pleased with his intentions behind his behaviour, Parker had been grateful for that. For once, it had been her who had offered comfort, which had been a relieving experience. Constantly relying on others while unable to give something back was harder to handle than the others seemed to understand.

"I know you surely don't want me to repeat what Eliot and Hardison have already said to you," Sophie continued then. "I dearly hope you're at least considering to listen to them. They're right." She paused. "You don't really believe that you're just part of this team because you're a good thief, do you?"

A soft sigh escaped Parker at the question, lingering in the air and waiting to be answered. She had expected that Sophie would ask, and she had assumed it would make her feel uncomfortable, because her friend's questions would try to go deeper, to make her confess things she didn't even want to admit to herself. Although she wasn't as good as Nate, she seemed to be psychic as well in some ways, so Parker believed, or at least was quite good at looking right through people. Such a skill was needed for her jobs, and she was amazed by her friend's talent. Seeing such a talent used on her and the others though was a different story. Still, she couldn't back off, or prevent herself from answering.

"Well, of course I did," she admitted, pretending to focus her attention on the statue she was cleaning even more. "You do feel lost when you can't do the only thing you're good at. And..." She hesitated. "And it does make you feel like...you don't fit in anymore because you're not...well, useful anymore."

"Useful?" Sophie gasped in disbelief. "Is that really what you're thinking? That you have to be useful to be part of this team?"

"Kinda." Shrugging, Parker eventually looked up, regretting her choice as soon as she made eye contact with her friend. "I mean...you guys...I'm not like you. I'm not like a normal person should be. That's why you keep on telling me how to behave, how I should change, how I'm not right like this. The only time you don't tell me what to do is during jobs, when I'm a thief. Because I'm good at stealing and you know it. But it always seemed to me like that's all I'm good at." She shrugged again, feeling the strong urge to look away under Sophie's shocked gaze.

"Parker," she said after endlessly long minutes, shaking her head. "No, that's...that's absolutely not what we wanted you to believe. I know I'm correcting you a lot, and teaching you how to behave, how to dress, things like that. But I'm not doing that because I don't like who you are. Or because you're wrong like that."

"Then why are you doing it?" she asked before she could stop herself. At Sophie's questioning look, she added, "I know I'm sometimes getting on Eliot's nerves with my behaviour, which is why he keeps on saying there's something wrong with me, or that I'm crazy. But he's not trying to change who I am. You though...and the others as well, you...you seem to try and make me be a normal person. Why would you do that if you don't think I need to be fixed?"

Her words trailed off again. She knew the others cared. She had seen that various times during the past couple of weeks. All of them were trying their best to be there for her, which proved Eliot's theory right: they loved her. Still, she couldn't get entirely rid of the idea that she fitted in better when she was able to do the only thing she knew she was good at. For a while now, she was trying to see more than just a talented thief in herself. But so far, she hadn't found much.

"Oh Parker," Sophie sighed then, looking so guilty that the young woman almost wanted to take her words back. Her friend was faster though. Reaching out, she carefully grabbed Parker's hands. Gently, she squeezed them before she added, "I never wanted you to believe that I'm trying to fix you. I think I fell for a very stupid idea: that you might want to learn how to behave like...a normal person. Then again, who says what's normal? No one in this team is, and most people out there aren't either. Do you remember how we already discussed this topic a few years ago?"

Parker nodded. She had met Peggy that day: a very normal person in the opinion of both women. "Everyone has their quirks," Sophie continued then. "And that's perfectly okay. How boring would the world be if everyone was the same? The only reason why I was trying to teach you all that...I thought it might make jobs easier for you. Or interacting with people in general. You had such problems with that in the beginning. And then you got better at it and started to make friends. Like Peggy for example. I thought it might help you. I didn't mean to make you feel like you had to be fixed, or like you wouldn't fit in. Or that stealing is the only thing you're good at."

Wordlessly, Parker stared back at her friend, allowing Sophie's words to sink in for a moment. The woman's speech had come as a surprise to her. For Parker, the intention behind the team's behaviour had never been up to debate. She was different, had never really cared, but had realised that rather quickly as soon as she had joined the team, and had been confronted with other human beings. She had believed the others had wanted to fix her, but hadn't really bothered to be offended or annoyed by this fact, knowing that there was at least one field she was the best in. The team needed her skills, so she had shrugged off their attempts at teaching her.

"You wanted to help me?" she couldn't help but ask then.

"Yes." Nodding, Sophie offered a warm smile. "You don't need to be fixed, Parker. You have your quirks, yes, and sometimes, those really...I can't deny that sometimes, you can really surprise us with the things that are going on in your mind." She squeezed the blonde's hands again. "But that's fine. Because for the record, everyone here has their quirks as well. You also don't have to be an expert at interacting with others, or at grifting. Just like I won't ever be as fantastic as you at lock picking. It's perfectly fine. That's why we're working together after all. And you...you're a friend. You're like a younger sister for me, Parker. Like the others said, there's so much more to you than just a talented thief. You're a sweetheart, you're loyal, and you're always honest. That can be quite embarrassing at times, yes. But at least you're not lying us into the face. That's a weakness of me and Nate sometimes: we do lie, or hide behind a mask. You're much better at sharing your opinion. That's a strength. That, and we know that we can always count on you. Just like you can always count on us."

Parker nodded slowly. Sophie wasn't the first one who was trying to make her understand that she fitted in, and that she was more than just a thief. But the way she had explained her own behaviour, the way she was trying to make her understand that she was part of a family rather than part of a team touched Parker in a way she hadn't expected.

"I can stop giving you advice or correcting you if you like," Sophie said then.

But Parker shook her head. "No, it's okay. I did learn a lot from you. It just...feels good to know you're not doing it because you think I'm wrong the way I am." She wanted to add more, but was interrupted by a sharp pain that ripped through her leg. Squeezing her eyes shut, she hissed. Taking deep breaths didn't seem to ease it though.

"Parker? Are you okay?" Sophie's worried voice asked. Two soft hands grabbed her by the shoulders, trying to make her look up. "Can I do something for you?"

"Yeah," she managed to say between gritted teeth. "Tell Eliot to come over."

"Don't you maybe need something against the pain?" Sophie wanted to know.

"Yeah, him." Parker groaned. "Please?"

Making another attempt at breathing through the pain, she barely heard how Sophie got up. She couldn't tell how many minutes passed until her wheelchair was suddenly pulled away from the table. Once again, two hands grabbed her, this time a little more firmly. A sigh of relief escaped Parker as she forced her eyes open, meeting Eliot's gaze.

"What's hurting?" he wanted to know.

"My...leg." She groaned again. "It's like someone's running a knife into it all the time. Make it stop!" She couldn't suppress the whimper that escaped her. Sophie's warm, soft hand took hers then, silently offering comfort.

Meanwhile, Eliot focused on the limb in question. Gently, he started to massage the hurting spot. The sensation was still dull, but, much to her relief, the pain started to ease after a while. Parker's breathing slowed down again, until relieved sighs left her lips. Those flashes of pain weren't new to her, although she hadn't experienced them in her legs yet. It was nothing she could get used to though, and was grateful as it faded again.

"Are you better yet?" Eliot asked then, looking up.

"Yeah." Parker nodded, with a raised eyebrow gazing back at him. Spending so much time with him lately, she had learnt to read him, better than anyone else. She had spotted something in his eyes that had caught her attention.

"What is it?" she wanted to know.

"Well, I'm no doctor," he answered. "But from what I could tell you were in pain because your muscles had tensed up. That's why the massage helped: because I could ease the tension."

"That means they're starting to work again, doesn't it?" Sophie asked, careful hints of excitement in her voice.

"Probably." He shrugged.

But Parker didn't need to hear more. She knew he didn't want to spark any wrong hope, didn't want her to get excited, just to be disappointed again. She could see it in his eyes though: the expression was similar to the one she had seen when she had managed to clench her hands a couple of weeks ago. He didn't believe she was dealing with phantom pain. Eliot was convinced that she was making new progresses again. A smile lit her face at this thought: maybe, just maybe, the honest conversation with Sophie and what she had learnt from it had been yet another little push she had needed.


	11. Chapter 11

**Title****:** Trapped  
**Summary****:** Sometimes, accepting love and support is the first step into the right direction.  
**Characters****:** Parker, Eliot, Nate, Sophie, Hardison  
**Pairings****:** Eliot/Parker, with Nate/Sophie  
**Rating****:** R  
**Disclaimer****:** I DON'T own anyone or anything. I DON'T own the characters. The fanfic is written for fun, NOT for profit.  
**Author****'****s****note****:** Like always, I'd like to thank the lovely akblake for the great ideas and inspiration for this chapter, and for the whole story! And huge thanks for the reviews! :)

* * *

The pain in her legs kept on returning, much to her dismay. Parker knew that chances were high said pain was a good sign though. Eliot had told her that they might be able to start further physical therapy, and soon as she would be able to start moving her legs. His massages kept on having a relaxing effect on her aching muscles, much to her relief.

One step after the other. She couldn't deny she was still impatient, wanting the pain to ease and her legs to respond. She had learnt to accept the wheelchair during the past couple of weeks, but was still longing for the moment she would get out of it, when her own legs would be able to carry her again.

Walking. Running. Doing whatever she liked. The idea sounded so tempting, and Parker wished she could push herself more to reach her biggest goal. Something had obviously been unblocked in her mind again, and she wished to know how to make this happen on purpose.

So far, she hadn't entirely figured out how to make that happen though. Many times, she had sat down, with her eyes closed, trying to concentrate on herself and on her own mind. She had tried to control her thoughts, with the hope that maybe, she could trick herself.

She was willing to accept the support the others were offering. She was willing to learn, and see that maybe, there was indeed more to her than just a talented thief. She was trying her best.

But no matter how often she was repeating those thoughts in her mind, her body wouldn't take the next leap. It was frustrating, but she refused to complain openly. Eliot wouldn't be pleased, finding out that she was trying to force new progresses rather than patiently waiting for them to happen. He believed she was supposed to allow herself to relax, but after weeks of making one slow step after the other, she wanted more.

"When are we going to start the real physical therapy?" she asked as she joined him in the middle of their living room. By now, she had to admit she had gotten used to this place. The apartment had almost looked like a copy of Nate's place, until Sophie had started to decorate it. She liked what Sophie had done to the rooms. Having lived in a warehouse for so long, she had needed a while to adjust to her surroundings, but by now was starting to accept them as her new home.

"What'd you mean?" Eliot asked back, briefly looking up from what he was doing. He had brought a cot with him, currently putting it together. She watched him with raised eyebrows.

"Parker?" he asked again as she didn't respond right away. "What'd you mean? What's real physical therapy for you? We've already been working on your hands all the time."

"Yeah, but...I mean like getting out of the wheelchair." She shrugged. "When are we working on that?" She could feel her cheeks heating up at the long, stern look he gave her in response. In silence, he continued his work, until she groaned. "Can't you at least answer?"

"We discussed this how often already?" Eliot shook his head at her. "Parker, I do get it, okay? I do understand that you're impatient and wanna get out of that thing. But didn't I tell you already to slow down? Take it easy, okay? It's good to be motivate and all, but don't overdo it."

It was her turn to not answer. Parker knew he wouldn't bother to start an argument with her. Eliot wanted her to relax, worried that she could feel worse again if she stressed too much. He wouldn't allow her to keep on pushing herself the way she wanted to.

"What's that for?" she decided to ask then, knowing she wouldn't get a satisfying answer anyway.

"I want to give you a decent massage," he explained. "Not just the arms or the legs. Got the feeling that you're quite tensed up lately, and that's not gonna be helpful." At her surprised look, he added, "You think I wouldn't notice that? That question's just one example of many. For the record, I do get it, okay? You wanna be up and walking, but it's not gonna work that way. You need to relax. If you're getting all stressed and tense again, you're right back where you've been in the beginning."

"So you think I might get worse again if I'm too motivated?" Parker wanted to know.

"I didn't mean you might get worse," Eliot told her. "But getting better might take even longer. You should've noticed by now that you can't force your body to cooperate."

She only groaned in response. That her body didn't listen was obvious, but hard to accept. That she couldn't hide this in front of him made the situation even more complicated. So much, she wanted to tell her legs to respond, to react the way she wanted them to.

Parker wasn't sure whether or not she wanted to listen to him and try to slow down again. Eliot was trying his best to keep her motivated, to help her so she could handle her current situation as good as possible. He cared, more than he seemed to be willing to admit, and she was sure he understood her, but following his advice was getting more and more difficult with every day.

His massages were always welcome though, and so, she willingly allowed him to lift her onto the cot. She rolled her eyes at him as he asked if she was okay with taking her clothes off: Sophie hadn't been the only one who had seen her naked during the past weeks, while in need of help with showering and other activities in the bathroom. Carefully, she lay down on her front, awaiting whatever his skilled hands would do to her.

"Anything I have to do?" she wanted to know as she rested her cheek on the soft blanket that would serve as her pillow.

"Just try to relax," he ordered. "Close your eyes. Try not to think. The more relaxed your muscles are, the better. Prevents you from hurting so much. Doesn't mean they'll go all weak though, so no need to worry. If something I'm gonna do might hurt, tell me."

Nodding, Parker closed her eyes. She shivered slightly as warm massage oil met her skin then, its tempting smell instantly having a comforting, relaxing effect on her. His hands gently spread the oil across her back, arms and legs.

And then, the massage started. His hands began their journey at her shoulders, and travelled from there. Slowly, inch by inch, he worked on her muscles, some of them responding more intensely than others to his ministration.

She didn't notice the broad range of the effect his hands' work had on her right from the start. Indeed, she could feel herself relaxing, enjoying the way all tension seemed to disappear. She hadn't even been aware of how tensed up she had been until now, and couldn't blame him for believing that torturing her body like that wouldn't help her healing process.

But there was more, she realised soon. His grip on her was firm, yet gentle, and every single touch caused a heat deep within her that was entirely new. It increased and increased whenever his hands met her skin. It was a strange sensation, going along with a tickling in the pit of her belly. Biting her bottom lip, Parker tried to fight against it at first, instinctively distrusting this new experience.

But eventually, she gave in to it. Very soon, the earlier frustration and impatience were forgotten as the rising heat caused her mind to spin, in a surprisingly delicious way. Those hands, so expertly working on her muscles, caused a longing that almost shocked her. She wanted him to keep on touching her, and not just in those places his hands were currently exploring. Once again, she could feel her cheeks reddening as she realised what exactly she was wishing for. Who would have expected something simple like a massage, which was supposed to help her with getting rid of some tension, could make her feel that way?

So lost in the sensation, slowly getting addicted to the steadily increasing heat, she didn't notice how much time had passed until he suddenly stopped. Her eyes flew open as she felt the urge to complain, not wanting to be wrapped in the large towel that seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. The heat slowly started to fade again, much to her dislike. She had reached a point where it had been almost unbearable, had made her wish for some kind of release, but him just stopping definitely wasn't appreciated.

"Why'd you stop already?" Parker asked, shuddering at the husky sound of her voice. She tried her best to cover her face with her hair, to hide her constantly reddening face.

"Already?" Eliot asked back. She couldn't help but think that his voice didn't sound normal either. "Guess your body's relaxed enough by now." He paused, and through the curtain of her hair, she could see that he was studying her. This time, she truly wished she was able to read his mind, because his eyes didn't give away anything.

"You'll...do this again for me?" she forced herself to ask. "It did quite make me relax."

"Sure." He paused again. "I can do that, as long as you don't stress yourself unnecessarily."

Parker just nodded in response. She lay still and waited until Eliot gently grabbed her arms and helped her to get up and dressed again. The way he had made her feel had come as a surprise, and she wondered whether this was yet another sign for the fact that she was getting better, or if said feelings had been caused by something else.

* * *

Every single team member was willing to distract or entertain Parker, and all of them had their very own ways of doing so. That Nate was allowing her to teach him how to pick locks though had come as a surprise. He had always been nice to her, even in the beginning, when she had driven the others crazy with her moments of madness.

During the past couple of weeks, he seemed to watch out for her even more though. Along with Eliot, he invested the most time in supporting her. Parker couldn't help but wonder if he was starting to see her as some kind of daughter, because she was convinced his behaviour suited to the way a father would treat his child.

Even more surprised she was by the fact that he had stopped drinking as well, and didn't even seem to mind. He looked a lot more awake, a lot more focused, almost younger in her eyes. When he was together with her, his full attention would be focused on what they were doing. No other thought was interrupting him while he was spending time with her.

Repeatedly, she gazed up, studying the man as she tried to teach him. Nate was a father figure, and at the moment, she was longing for exactly such a person by her side. Her mind was spinning, thanks to a recent event that still confused her.

Like promised, Eliot had given her another massage, and, like expected, the fascinating feelings had returned. Parker didn't know what to think about them, or how to deal with them either.

"No, not like this," she said, shaking her head as Nate tried to pick yet another of her locks. Grabbing his wrists, she tried to guide his hands. Her grip was still weak, her arms unsteady. Parker knew more training was required, and dearly hoped that soon, she would feel more in control over herself, could clench her fingers with old familiar strength.

"You don't have to try and learn that just to make me happy," she added then.

Nate offered a tiny smile in response. "It's okay, Parker. While everyone of us is an expert in their respective fields, that doesn't mean we can't expand our knowledge a little. Who knows, maybe I might be in need of your skills." He watched her for a moment, with the look that never failed to make her nervous and believe that he was trying to gaze right into her soul. "Practising with your locks doesn't mean that we can't talk about what you got in mind though." His smile widened as she stared at him with huge eyes. "And no, Parker, I cannot read your mind."

Offering a playful glare, she blushed softly. In silence, she played with one of the locks for a moment before she sighed. "I don't know how to say it," she admitted. "Or...if I should."

"Well." Leaning back in his chair, Nate studied her closely. "Whatever you got to say will stay between you and me, and I also won't judge. You know that, don't you? You trust in me by now?"

Parker nodded slowly. Her attention stayed focused on the lock for another couple of minutes until she sighed again. "I'm confused because of some...feelings," she forced herself to say. Talking a little faster, she added, "Eliot's nice to me all the time. You know, taking care of me, helping me and all. Feels really nice. But then, he...well, he's been massaging me to make me feel better and more relaxed. 'Cause I've been tensing up a bit. But when he did that, I felt so...different. It was strange. I felt like..."

Her voice trailed off abruptly. She was convinced her face was bright red by now. How was she supposed to explain what was confusing her so much? Parker almost regretted she had brought up the topic in the first place, but knew she couldn't take it back anymore. Hesitantly, she threw another glance in Nate's direction. Unlike what she had expected, he still looked calm, not the slightest bit confused, amused, or even surprised.

"So he made you feel something you don't usually feel for a friend, am I right?" he eventually asked. As she nodded, almost shyly, he offered an encouraging smile. "That's nothing to be ashamed of, Parker."

"But...why?" She groaned, shaking her head in disbelief. "I don't understand it. I mean...we are good friends, aren't we? Why can he make me feel that way?"

Nate shrugged. "Feelings are often confusing, don't you think? You can't control them, and they seem to appear out of nowhere. Sometimes, you believe you're friends with someone, just to realise that somewhere along the line, you developed deeper feelings for them. It's normal, especially when you're spending so much time with each other. For the record, it's nothing to be ashamed of."

"And what if he finds out?" Parker asked back, the idea making her shudder.

"Shouldn't he?" he wanted to know, with a growing smile.

"But that would be totally embarrassing if he didn't feel the same way!" Parker firmly shook her head. "No. Just because I'm feeling differently doesn't mean he does, too."

"I wouldn't worry about that," Nate assured her with a wink. "You might be surprised by what he's thinking about you. Or feeling for you. I know it's not easy to bring the topic up, but you should give it a try."

Once again, Parker nodded slowly, grateful that Nate didn't continue the topic and instead returned to her locks. Watching him as he continued to practise, she mentally replayed his words. She had feelings that didn't have much to do with friendship, and the mastermind seemed to believe that Eliot had such feelings for her as well. The idea of confronting him with that though, admitting what she was really thinking, made her nervous. But maybe he was right: she should just give it a try.


	12. Chapter 12

**Title:** Trapped  
**Summary:** Sometimes, accepting love and support is the first step into the right direction.  
**Characters:** Parker, Eliot, Nate, Sophie, Hardison  
**Pairings:** Eliot/Parker, with Nate/Sophie  
**Rating:** R  
**Disclaimer:** I DON'T own anyone or anything. I DON'T own the characters. The fanfic is written for fun, NOT for profit.  
**Author's note:** Thanks so much for reviewing, and huge thanks to Spring Raine for the idea for this chapter!

* * *

Eliot couldn't tell when exactly taking care of Parker had turned into a daily routine which he was used to so much that he couldn't imagine to do anything else anymore. Somewhere along the line, he had reached a point where his first thought in the morning would be her. Was she okay? How had she been during the night?

Quite a while ago, he had questioned himself, had wondered if being so invested was really a good idea. There was nothing to change about this fact though, and so he had stopped bothering. She was in need of support, even though she still couldn't really ask for it.

And he would give it to her. Parker continued making progresses almost on a daily basis, but Eliot knew that despite her motivation, she was still struggling as well. For months now, she was stuck in a wheelchair, still unable to get up and walk on her own legs.

She wanted to be her old self again. There was no doubt about that. He knew she was trying to understand, was trying to see that she was more than just a thief. Much more. She was trying to see that she was loved for herself, not for her skills.

But that didn't change her longing for doing what she was best at. She wanted to run and skip, wanted to rappel and sneak. She had accepted her current situation, was getting better and better at dealing with it.

But at times, the progresses weren't enough. She was trying to hide that, but he wouldn't miss the change of expression in her eyes. Those eyes would always give her away, and in those moments, when she was upset again, he would jump in even more, would do what he could to cheer her up, to keep her motivated.

More than once, he had wondered what spending so much time with each other would do to them. He had realised rather quickly how much he cared, how much a simple smile of her could already please him. It had taken him a while to realise that there might also be something else.

He cared, more than he was supposed to care for a friend, and he couldn't help the thought that her view on him was slowly changing as well. Hesitation around women was new to Eliot, but sharing his thoughts and beliefs with Parker was no option. He wasn't afraid of her reaction, but of the consequences a reckless confession about his feelings could have. Apart from that, he wanted her focus to stay on her recovery, not on potentially confusing feelings.

Distraction was needed. Convincing Parker that she should leave the apartment building for once had turned out to be more difficult than Eliot had expected though. Her eyes had lit up for a moment as he had suggested that they should try something else than what they used to do on a daily basis. He knew she was getting bored with repeating the same activities over and over again.

But then, as realisation had hit her, when she had understood that she would have to go outside for that, her mind had changed. She hadn't been able to voice those thoughts that prevented her from agreeing to his idea right away, but he didn't need her to say more to understand.

Parker was scared. Inside theirs and Nate's apartment, she knew how to navigate. By now, she had become so mobile with her wheelchair that she could do most activities without support. More than once, he had already found her sitting on the living room couch, a bowl of cereals resting in her lap which she had managed to fill all by herself.

She knew those surroundings. Wherever he would take her though would confront her with entirely new challenges. Eliot knew she trusted in him and his support. But giving up some of the independence, which she had worked for so hard, was a difficult step to make.

Eventually, he had managed to convince her. Eliot was very well aware of the fact that a trip across Boston wasn't a good idea in any way. Parker didn't want to be surrounded by others, would fear that she would be stared at. Attention was never something she liked to attracted, and would fear to do exactly that, no matter how much he would try to talk her out of having such thoughts. She wouldn't be able to relax, and stressing her out even more was the furthest from his mind.

Instead, he had decided to leave the city behind for a couple of hours, and would go fishing with her. The odd look she had offered as he had shared his idea with her hadn't come as a surprise. Fishing was nothing she had ever done, and Eliot had no doubt that Parker couldn't see how such an activity could entertain her at all.

It wasn't the fishing itself he cared for though. The purpose of this trip was a change of environment for her. For months now, she was stuck in either theirs or Nate's apartment. For months, she hadn't been able to take a deep breath of fresh air, to feel wind caressing her skin, playing with her hair, to hear the sound of singing bird, or the rushing and soft gurgling of water.

Going fishing would provide all that, and he hoped that seeing something else for once, being alone out there without anyone else getting in the way, would give her another little boost of motivation.

"You know, fishing's really not boring. No matter what Hardison's trying to say," Eliot told her as he wheeled her over to the edge of the lake he had chosen for their little trip. It was a large one, surrounded by thick bushes and mighty trees. Sunshine caused the wavy surface to sparkle. Beneath the trees, they would be able to hide from it in the shadows by the time it would burn down on the peaceful landscape with too much energy.

"It's just about being all quiet, sitting there and waiting for a fish to catch the worm, right?" she asked back, giving him a questioning look.

Sighing deeply, Eliot mentally cursed the hacker for all the times he had ranted about his favourite hobby, biasing Parker with that. "It might be boring for someone who can't handle a couple of hours without a computer screen right in front of him," he stated. "But in fact, it's a very relaxing thing to do. Of course we can talk, but we can also be silent. Out here, there are no other people who could disturb us, and didn't you say you don't want to be around people so much?" As she nodded, he added, "I think being out here will be good for you. The fresh air is so much better than what you get inside an apartment all day long. If you pay attention, there's so much to see out here, to hear and to smell."

Parker raised an eyebrow at him before a chuckle escaped her. "You like nature a lot, huh?" she asked back.

"Of course I do." The sight of her smile had the familiar effect on him. He couldn't help but wonder if she had always smiled like that, if he simply hadn't noticed earlier how beautiful she was when she did so. She was so much more than a thief, he thought, and so much more than a crazy girl.

Together, they sat at the lake in silence for a while then. For a couple of minutes, he allowed himself to take in their surroundings, to enjoy the calm beauty of nature. Indeed he loved to be out in the wilderness, so far away from people, from jobs, from anything else that could disturb him. Out here, he could think, could let his thoughts wander and drift off. Out here, he didn't have to watch his back.

This time, Eliot couldn't stay focused for long though. Eventually, his eyes darted back to Parker. Satisfied, he realised that after getting over her hesitation regarding his idea, she seemed to enjoy herself. With closed eyes, she sat in her wheelchair, with a soft smile tearing at the corners of her mouth as the sun warmed her face. She looked relaxed, just like he had wanted her to.

Eliot barely noticed how he mirrored her smile. Seeing her like that warmed his heart in a way he would have never dared to imagine. Witnessing those phases when she was feeling good relieved him, pleased him. He wanted to see her happy again, had to admit that he was longing for the moment when she would stand at the edge of a building, excited and confident, and would then scream in joy when she would jump off of it. He was even willing to accept her crazy comments during jobs, while she was flirting with a safe for example, as long as it meant that she got her happiness back.

All those thoughts were spinning in his mind as he watched her, and for once, he didn't try to question those feelings, which were caused by them. Yes, he cared for her, more than he was supposed to as a friend. He had to accept that, if he wanted to or not.

"Do you like me?"

The question came so unexpected that Eliot wondered if he had just imagined it for a moment. Shaking his head to clear his mind, he stared back at Parker with raised eyebrows.

"What?" he asked back.

Her eyes opened, and as she looked up, she almost looked embarrassed. "Do you like me?" she repeated.

He needed another couple of moments until the question had sunk in and he managed to answer. "Of course I do," he stated. "Shouldn't you know that by now? What'd you think why I'm taking care of you all the time? Why we're here now?"

Parker shrugged. "I...didn't mean it like that." She hesitated, visibly struggling before she added, "Do you...really like me?"

"Really like you..." Repeating her words, he narrowed his eyebrows in confusion, in yet another attempt to understand what she was trying to say. Parker's expression told him that he wouldn't get a clearer answer from her. It didn't happen often that she looked shy. In fact, he didn't know a single person who was more willing to voice her thoughts than her. Unless feelings were involved. Because when it came to feelings, she was as incapable of speaking them out as him.

Feelings. His eyes widened as realisation eventually hit him. She would only be shy when feelings were involved. Feelings that made her feel vulnerable, that threatened to cause harm if she said a wrong word, or revealed too much. Did he like her? Of course she knew he did. He was proving that to her every single day.

She didn't mean it the way he had understood her question. Because she was referring to something else.

"You know what," she said then, interrupting his thoughts once again. "Forget about it. It was a silly question. I...we should just go back to fishing. It's all about being quiet, right? Not chatting all the time. It'll scare them off."

Trying to hide that she was blushing again, she looked away, staring ahead. He could see how she stiffened in her wheelchair as his attention stayed focused on her. "Please stop staring," she whispered then. "It makes me feel stupid."

"There's no need to feel stupid at all," Eliot assured her. He studied her for another moment before he added, "You didn't say anything wrong, you know? It was perfectly fine to ask the question."

"No, it was silly." Parker shook her head firmly. "Just forget about it. I didn't mean to ask anyway. I was just curious, and Nate said it's okay to ask. But Nate doesn't always know everything, right? Forget it." She reached for her fishing rod, her hand shaking more than normally as she forced her fingers to close around it. Stress was threatening to take over again, and he knew it was his job to step in.

"For the record, it was not wrong to ask," he repeated quietly. Taking a deep breath, he fought against his own hesitation, his own fear. Overcoming such old habits was a challenge, even though he wanted to do it for her.

"I like you," he eventually managed to say. "I really do. More than I should I guess."

Eliot could see how she tensed at his words. "You do?" Parker asked, not daring to look up yet. "But I didn't mean..."

"I got what you meant, okay?" he interrupted her. "And yeah, I do. I do like you that way." He hesitated again before he added, "You feeling the same way about...us?"

She stared ahead for what felt like endlessly long minutes. Then, much to his surprise, a smile lit her face and she turned to look at him again. "What'd you think why I asked?" she wanted to know. She chuckled softly. "Seems like Nate was right. Again."

"When's he ever not right?" Eliot asked back. He couldn't help an own smile, caused by a strong rush of relief which he hadn't expected. Only now, he realised how true his statement really was. And how glad he was that he didn't have to either ignore or keep it a secret in front of her any longer. It was the confused expression, which appeared in her eyes then, that made him nervous again. "What is it?"

"Well, now that we know we like each other...what's next?" She shrugged. "I'm not good at such things. "

"Big surprise." He winked as she glared at him. "I'm not good at this either, Parker. I'm also not sure right now is exactly the right time to start something. Our focus should still be on your recovery."

Her face fell. "So that means we just forget about it again?" she asked.

"Can you just forget about it?" Eliot asked back.

Parker shrugged. "Don't think so. I mean, I do know I like you, and that you like me back. How can I stop thinking about it?"

He nodded slowly. "Then maybe we should come up with a compromise."

"A compromise?" The idea seemed to confuse Parker even more.

Eliot nodded again. "Yeah. We won't forget about it. Won't ignore it either. But starting...whatever this is won't be rushed. One step after the other."

"You keep saying that a lot, you know?"

It was his turn to chuckle. "Yeah, 'cause it's the best you could do. Stressing out about one thing or the other won't help at all."

She sighed. "How can you be so patient?"

"Who says I am?" he asked back. "I just wanna do this right, okay? You have to concentrate on making progresses. Physical therapy is hard work. Doesn't mean we have to ignore that thing between us though. I'm just saying we're not supposed to rush things. Would only cause unnecessary stress."

"Makes sense." She smiled softly, almost shyly. "You really care a lot, huh?"

"That's 'cause I like you." He offered another wink. And there it was again, this smile he adored so much. Suddenly, the urge to lean in and kiss her, to taste those sweet lips, was almost overwhelmingly tempting. But he would follow his own plan. They wouldn't rush anything. "Now, you'd like to go back to fishing?"

She gave him a disbelieving look. "You really do love nature a lot."

Grinning in response, Eliot shrugged, resisting the urge to tell Parker what else he would love to do. He cared for her, more than he should as a friend, but that was okay because he knew those feelings were mutual. This fact would definitely change their dynamic, in a very interesting way which he was looking forward to. But they could handle this new little challenge: they had already proven that they were good with them.


End file.
